Mass Effective: A Hero Lost
by DrStache
Summary: Saren's in the Past. Cerberus' in the Future. After the Battle of the Citadel, the Council is already ignoring the warnings we left them. And with Sovereign dead, the Crew of the Normandy have spread to the far corners of the Galaxy. So what the hell am I left to do? Become the Hero I always dreamed to be? Is that even possible? Probably. Rated T for Profanity.
1. Doctor 'No'

**July 27th, 2184 CE**

 **The God-Forsaken Wastelands of Some Far Off Alien World**

"Get in position god dammit! They're about to make it rain lead!"

"What position?! I thought we lost them-"

"Shut the fuck up and keep your eyes forward private!"

"Sorry sir! Yes sir!"

"And hey, you! Toothless! Shore up that ridge! I don't want my ass plugged by a stray round!"

"What he said! With all you FNGs around, I have enough assholes under me as is!"

"Moving!"

"And double check that you _actually_ have thermal clips in your guns! Especially you Preacher! I don't want these new toys screwing us over!"

"Damn, I can't see shit through this fog!"

"I said shut up Private! Before I decide to deck you with a ton of bricks!"

"Sorry sir!"

"And where in Grissom Green's Earth is our signaler?!"

And that'd be me.

"He's still trying to get that intel from HQ LT!"

No, not this guy. Try again.

"Still?! We don't have time to play peek-a-boo with these damn birds! Tell him that he needs to get his fat ass up here! And to double time it!"

What the-

No, I didn't mean this guy either. Come on now. A lieutenant? Hah. If I was a commissioned officer, I wouldn't currently be stuck doing the dirty work down in these trenches. However ' _vital'_ a duty it may be. No, further below the hill my unit was currently bunkering atop of, I was in the middle of another attempt at working the radio.

Puddles of mud splashed about as I tried to put a cable in, pull a cable out, shake a cable all about, shift it up, shift it down, shift the console all around, desperately attempting to get this damn receiver to work. And I really regretted my struggle with it too, as the grime was splattering all over my new threads. And yeah, you heard right. I finally got something other than my Onyx Armor to wear. Though that lifesaver from Aldrin Labs' has seen me through a lot of shit, I had to retire it about the same time it's ablative armor was sheared off in a violent explosion.

But yeah, I now currently possess the hottest new armor of this year's season: a navy-colored camouflage bodysuit of the typical Systems Alliance naval marine. That one you see every Alliance type wear in ME3. And apparently, there's a whole system and hierarchy to who's actually issued and wears what in which scenarios and what people gets whose gear but I'll get into all that later because honestly, we really don't have time for all that right now, just try to keep up with me here guy.

Anyways, yes, you heard right. 'Alliance armor you say? You joined the Alliance Navy?!'

Yeah, I joined the Alliance Navy. Like any of you wouldn't. I mean, I wasn't gonna go to Omega and start my own smuggling/pirate gang or anything like that. I didn't have the creds, the rep, or the cutthroat and/or bloodthirsty disposition one requires in such an occupation. And I sure as hell didn't want to join a merc gang. That'd be as wise as becoming a colonist on Freedom's Progress or Horizon. I didn't plan to die as cannon fodder in the name of some illegal act of random violence committed somewhere deep in bowels of the Terminus Systems.

So what else was there? I didn't exactly want some random odd job like working as a lifter for some random shipping company. And I didn't exactly have the background necessary for as prestigious a position as C-Sec either. While I'm sure my heroic actions alongside one of C-Sec's Special Response Units would have gotten me some dope career references, I didn't exactly have any prior experience as a po-po. And C-Sec only takes the best of the best, just the cream of the crop, only the sponsorship of an ambassador or council member even qualifying you for application. Although their hiring standards have somewhat lowered since the Battle of the Citadel...I still didn't meet a single one.

And honestly, neither of those, nor the dozens of other ideas I came up with, would even remotely help my end goal. Which of course, had originally been to stop Saren. God did that guy suck. But since the events of Mass Effect Uno had come and gone with nothing happening, no waking up in my bed, no great being telling me my mission was finally accomplished, no congratulatory screen saying I actually beat the sim or what have you... I was apparently in this for the long haul.

And with Saren long gone, I decided to update my goals in concordance. And of course, I only had two years to make them all happen. Unless whatever power that brought me here decided to whip me back out of this universe right in the middle of fighting the Collectors or some shit. Oh my god would that be frickin' annoying. But ah, I digress. You could dwell on all those if's, and's, or but's all day. Which would only be a fat waste of time. No, since the final events of 2183, I've had laser-guided focus in reaching my new goal. Which was now to simply prevent the shitty ending of ME3 from ever happening. Ever.

Human colony kidnappings? Naw. Asari screwing everyone over? Nope. Illusive Man fucking everyone's shit up? Haha no. And I had promised myself this most of all.

Shepard wasn't going to die.

Not again-

"Private! What the hell are you doing?!"

I suddenly found my extremely thoughtful, and poetic internal monologue interrupted by the loud bark of some guy I now found kneeling beside me, getting all up in my metaphorical grill. I mean like damn ho, get your scarred, nasty-ass mug all outta my face. It's like spacers never heard of personal space or something-

Then I remembered where I was. Man was this fog making it hard to concentrate.

"Oh, I'm, uhm...I'm trying to raise command...sarge!" I ended up eloquently replying, just noticing the bars on his shoulder plate. And with my pontificating now over, I quickly glanced back down at the machine, still finding the radio unable to connect to a relay.

But like I said, the trench we were in was VERY foggy, vision practically null, making it hard for me to even see what was going on with it. I wasn't completely convinced there weren't any particles or magnets or metals or some shit causing interference with the radio either. Or if I was just simply being incompetent-

"Well don't waste your time! We just found out they cut our comms!"

Oh. At least it wasn't me then.

"If you're with able squad, then get back to the line! Those damn birds are going to attack any second-"

And since the universe does love its specific brand of irony so, the loud cacophony of gunfire suddenly broke out beside the trench we were in, and-

Oh wait. Sorry.

Sometimes, everything happens so fast around me that it's hard for me to even keep track of where I am, let alone what's happening around me and what's-

Alright. Okay. I'm good now. I apologize.

Let me just backtrack from the very beginning.

...Ahem.

And since the universe does love its specific brand of irony so, the loud cacophony of gunfire suddenly broke out INSIDE the trench we were in, and several shouts of terror immediately erupted throughout it.

"Ah fuck!" the man across from me suddenly swore too as he was tagged by several rounds.

And then, the turian responsible immediately did the same as Sweetness and I whipped around, returning the favor. The subsequent headshots dropped the soldier to the ground, brown goop scattering everywhere as she faceplanted into the sludge of the ditch. And with that over with...now I could at least tell the Lieutenant where all the turians had gone.

"THEY'RE FLANKING US! MOVE IT!"

Oh. Guess he already knew then.

Welp.

This was bad.

* * *

 _Cue Mass Effect - Main Theme (0:40-1:00)_

* * *

In the year 2183, an unintentional explorer from the 21st century discovered themselves in the realm of a famed franchise originally set in the Milky Way. In the time that followed, their subsequent adventures led said explorer to eventually find their raison d'être, enabling them to survive countless more scenarios of peril that followed them throughout the stars. This is their story. The basis for their impossible existence is unknown, contradictory to the very fabric of space and time.

The explorer called it bullshit.

The readers of this story call it...

* * *

 **MASS EFFECTIVE: A HERO LOST!**

...

..

.

* * *

 **ACT 1 (2183 CE)**

* * *

 **September 31, 2183 CE**

 **SA Reception Center Rhode, Earth**

"Name."

"Shield."

"Full name please."

"Marauder Shield."

The portly man raised an eyebrow, incredulous, as his lazy glance was cast my way.

"Yeah, I know, the person who named me was very creative. Here are my forms."

Because even in the 22nd century, apparently, some circles still thrived on paper work.

"Mmm." He pointed to a counter in disinterest, resuming his prep. "Just put them over there along with your clothes."

It didn't take long for me to oblige as I was damn ready to get the hell out of here. If I needed to expose my tanned, supple, naked form to this doctor for that to happen, then so be it.

"Step inside the machine please," he muttered next, continuing to write gibberish down. "Hold out your arms like in the diagram. Yes, feet apart. Don't move."

I did as instructed, standing awkwardly as he casually flipped the thing on, machine's scanners immediately springing to life, arms swiveling around me, blue light enveloping my body as it finished its job in the span of mere seconds.

"1.82 meters. Hm. 81.6 kilograms. Systolic at 115. Diastolic at 66. Hmph. Blood Type B. Ah. Extensive genetherapy. Appropriate vaccinations. Cranial implant? Interesting. Appears subject is-"

He stopped translating the scanner's report as his eyes finally caught the problem, gaze actually directed at me for the first time since I walked in.

"...what in Arcturus' name...did you get yourself mauled by a pack of rabid dogs recently? The hell happened to you son?"

Son? I was probably only like twenty years younger than this old fart...oh my god.

You know, it still hits me hard every time I realize I'm technically, probably, reasonably, somewhere in my mid-thirties. Real difficult thing to wrap your head around. Probably what those people trapped in the body of the wrong gender feel like. Except with age. Though I'm sure that was a thing in 21st century too.

In regards to his question however, I only shrugged, just hoping that we could still get this over as quickly as possible, and finally end my wretched wait here in reception. It really only took like an hour and a half to fill out all those damn forms for enlistment here. So, it's truly insane that they've kept all us recruits here for as long as they have. I mean, it's already been...what...five days since I've gotten here? Maddening. Insanity. Our entire stay so far has just been an enormous waste of time-

I shivered as the physician tentatively continued their overdrawn examination, pressing their stethoscope onto my back, glancing at every other scar left from my previous adventures while doing so, obviously concerned.

"Really. Some of these wounds are still healing, open even, what in the world-"

"I haven't had the chance to put some medi-gel on the ones that reopened during the physical assessment. Sir."

"Why haven't you been checked into a hospital for these-"

"I was just released from one several days ago. Sir."

"Really?"

"...they said I was cleared for release."

The man took a sharp intake of air through his nose before stepping backward, removing his stethoscope.

"...was the place located in a back-alley son? Because I don't know what they were thinking. I can't possibly see any doctor clearing you as you are. In my professional opinion, I don't think you're in any kind of shape to be walking around, let alone capable of taking BCT-"

"With respect sir...I think I am." Though he wasn't wrong. I had _definitely_ left that hospital before I had been cleared for release. "I can assure you a couple of cuts won't affect my performance-"

"Look, just wait a couple more weeks...Shield was it? At least before trying again. There's nothing wrong with coming back and finishing this all later. The Alliance won't disappear overnight-"

"Sir, to be frank, I don't have the time. I _need_ to enlist. As soon as possible."

"And...why is that?"

"To...make a difference. Sir."

The portly physician stared at me before turning back to the application in hand.

"Well...if you wanted to do that, maybe you should have thought a little harder before getting yourself involved in a fight with a pack of-"

"I got these from the Battle of the Citadel...sir."

"Oh. I'm...I'm sorry." Shame now plagued his face. "I'm sorry you were caught in that. No one, let alone an innocent bystander, should have to experience the horrors of war. But-"

"I was no civilian," I immediately made sure to correct him. "I defended that station from the geth side by side agents of C-Sec. I even received a commendation for my actions from C-Sec's Executor-"

"Look, that's extremely commendable but I can't in good conscience-"

"And if you actually read my forms, you'd see that one of my references is _the_ Admiral Anderson, current military liaison to the Human Embassy on the Citadel. My efforts there impressed _him_. I hope my actions speak louder than my words doctor, but if they fail to convince you, then I'm not afraid to still resort to the other-"

"Is that a threat Mister Shield?"

"What? No! I...I meant that I'd just use my _words_ to convince you instead."

"Oh."

"Because...doctor, if you approve me, and I'm not up to snuff like you say, I'd just fail and get myself kicked out of the academy before it really even starts. It wouldn't hurt anyone but myself. And that would just prove that I'm not able to carry out the responsibilities I even want. As they'll be much, much harder than this."

"Shield, if you just waited another-"

"I can't wait!" I now raised my voice at him. Because I didn't have the time. Two years. Maybe less. I had to be worth something by then. "It...it has to be now. I have to learn the skills this place gives you as soon as I can-"

"What skills?" he now responded, growing quite frustrated himself. "How to march? How to drill? ...how to shoot a rifle? How to kill-"

"How to _protect_. Doctor. Protect the people I want to." I've come this far. I couldn't lose now. Not to some random coat. "...Because I know what it's like to be unable to do that...and I don't want to experience that feeling ever again. Just let me prove to you that...no. Let me prove to _myself_ that I can actually do this. That I can actually become the person I want to be. Just give me that chance Doc. I persevered through a lot in the past couple of months, and I sacrificed more than I'd like to get here. But I'm willing to give a lot more if it means I can help the people I want."

The doctor just shook his head as he rifled through my papers, flicking by one after another. He glanced at me, seemingly disappointed, before letting out another sigh and stamping the folder they were in. And my eyes lit up in response.

"This better not bite me in the ass son."

"Don't worry Doc! You won't regret this! Thank you!"

The man sighed heavily again, his long day apparently finally catching up with him.

"...and that was a very laud-worthy performance you gave there."

"Oh. Thank you."

"How long did you practice that?"

"Uh, long enough...I guess," I could only reply coyly, scratching my head. Though I have to say, it still felt pretty weird after being shaved. My handsome head of jet-black hair...gone. Entirely. Just like that. Was enlistment here truly worth the cost?

"Honestly though? I thought I'd need that speech for the fingers."

I then wiggled the two metallic digits on my left hand.

"We accept applicants with prosthestics as long as they're up to date and work as intended," the physician replied, finishing up the rest of the check-up. "You're free to go."

"Again, I can't thank you enough Doc," I replied, already redressing myself.

"I appreciate it. Now get out. I have about twenty more of you to see," he then told me curtly.

"Ah. Right."

"...and good luck, _Private_ Shield. You're going to need it."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

As you might have gathered reader, this story is actually a sequel to another ME SI named **Mass Effective: A Hero Made!** To those who've read it, welcome back, glad to have you join me for this next ride! And to those unfamiliar with the ever-expanding saga, feel free to read this story without doing the same for the first! I'm sure you'll catch on to most of the OC's actions in the first game and story's overall tone within just these first few chapters alone.

Anyhoo, hope you're all ready for the next adventure, and a completely off the rails ME setting that covers a large amount of semi-canon lore you probably never even heard of! Real excited for it all! And hope you are too! Until next time, later gators!

* * *

 **Next time on Mass Effective: A Hero Lost!**

It's not yelling, it's motivation. ALLIANCE BOOT CAMP!


	2. From Earth with Love

**October 05th, 2183 CE**

 **SA Recruit Training Depot Prudence, Earth**

"I SWEAR BY THE GREAT GRACE OF GRISSOM THAT THE ALLIANCE LOWERS ITS STANDARDS EVERY STAR-FORSAKEN ORBIT ON THIS WORLD!"

Stand up straight. Arms at your side. Eyes forward. Remember what they taught you at Reception. Don't talk, don't blink, don't breathe-

"TELL ME! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS MISERABLE LOT OF MAGGOTS WHO CURRENTLY THINK THEY'RE WORTHY OF STANDING BEFORE ME?! I ASK ARCTURUS FOR MARINES, AND IN THEIR STEAD, THEY SEND ME WORTHLESS COLONIAL HICKS!"

The two guys on either side of me couldn't help but flinch as our sergeant suddenly shouted louder than humanly possible in our general direction. And I couldn't say that I didn't mimic them either as his voice shattered whatever confidence I had left that I could act like a smart ass during my stay here.

"DAMMIT ALL TO THE VERGE! I GUESS IT'S UP TO ME ONCE AGAIN TO CORRECT THEIR HORRIBLE MISTAKE. AND IF YOU SHIT FOR BRAINS HAVEN'T GUESSED IT YET, I WILL BE YOUR DRILL INSTRUCTOR FOR THE REMAINING DAYS OF YOUR LIFE ON THIS HERE BASE. MY NAME IS NOT IMPORTANT, FOR YOU WILL ONLY REFER TO ME AS SIR!"

Standing in two lines parallel to one another, the fifty two new recruits of Bear Platoon emulated a terra cotta army inside their newly assigned barracks. Every recruit unmoving, unflinching, unwavering, utterly silent, each making it their mission not to be the one singled out by our new-

"WHAT THE-"

-overlord today.

"-DID ALL OF YOUR FAT AND UGLY MOMMAS FORGET TO TEACH YOU ALL SOME GODDAMN FUCKING MANNERS?!"

Or had tried to anyway.

"I WANT TO HEAR A 'HELLO SIR! NICE TO MEET YOU SIR! WOULD YOU LIKE YOUR DICK SUCKED SIR?' WHEN A SUPERIOR OFFICER SUCH AS MYSELF ADDRESSES YOU PIECES OF SHIT!"

And after that, we realized our cue.

"HELLO SIR! NICE TO-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND TURN AROUND!"

"...sir?" somebody near the front let loose.

"DID I FUCKING STUTTER PRIVATE?! SHUT THE FUCK UP AND TURN YOURSELF AROUND!"

Like children in daycare, we immediately obeyed our teacher, spinning around to face our bunks.

"BECAUSE I CAN'T BEAR THE SIGHT OF YOU JACKASSES ANY LONGER! HAVE ANY OF YOU EVEN SEEN A FUCKING MIRROR IN THE ENTIRETY OF YOUR SAD, PATHETIC, MISERABLE, LITTLE LIVES?! I MUST BE ON THE FUCKIN' CITADEL WITH HOW MANY FUCK-UGLY MARTIAN REJECTS ARE CURRENTLY LOOKING AT ME RIGHT NOW."

And of course, as obligatory in this circumstance, someone made the mistake of snickering.

"WHAT THE- YOU! WHAT'S YOUR NAME HIDEOUS?!"

"Sir, Private Hale, sir!" the private immediately replied, straightening up.

"WHAT A COINCIDENCE PRIVATE BECAUSE YOU HAPPEN TO BE HALE-AH UGLY. YOU LOOK LIKE YOUR MOMMA GAVE BIRTH TO YOU THROUGH A FRUIT BLENDER! PICASSO'S PAINTINGS WOULD BE JEALOUS OF HOW TOPSY-TURVY YOUR MUG CAME OUT! I WANT YOU TO PUT A BAG OVER YOUR HEAD NEXT TIME I SEE YOU PICASSO, OR I MIGHT JUST FEED YOU TO PRIVATE FAT-BODY OVER HERE FOR TRYING TO MAKE ME LOSE MY LUNCH! YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!"

"Sir, yes-AGH-"

"AND DON'T YOU _EVER_ INTERRUPT OR EYEBALL ME AGAIN WITHOUT MY SAY-SO PRIVATE! OR I WILL PLUCK THOSE BLASTED BLUE EYEBALLS OUT OF THEIR SOCKETS WITH PRIVATE FAT-BODY'S ASS CHEEKS! AND THAT GOES SAME FOR ALL OF YOU LIMP-DICKED ELCOR-LOOKING FREAKS! WHILE YOU LIVE AND BREATHE ON MY BASE, YOU WILL NOT EAT, YOU WILL NOT SLEEP, YOU WILL NOT TAKE A DUMP WITHOUT MY SAY-SO!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"OH? WHAT'S THIS NOW? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR FACE THERE PRIVATE?! DO YOU NOT LIKE IT WHEN I CALL YOU PRIVATE FAT-BODY SON?!"

"No sir!" the guy with brass balls deemed to reply next to me, giving reason to why there was a blatant look of disdain on his face.

"OH? IS THAT SO?"

"Yes sir!"

"ARE YOU TELLING ME WHAT I CAN AND CANNOT DO ON MY BASE PRIVATE FAT-BODY?! ARE YOU TELLING ME I'VE MISTAKEN YOU FOR A WORTHLESS PILE OF BLUBBER AND LARD WHEN YOU ARE IN FACT, ACTUALLY AN ADMIRAL FROM THE ARCTURUS ASSEMBLY?! WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY SO THEN FAT-BODY?! ATTENTION EVERYONE! LOOK OVER HERE! IT SEEMS _ADMIRAL_ FAT-BODY HAS ACTUALLY DEEMED US WORTHY ENOUGH TO GRACE US WITH HIS PRESENCE TODAY! SAY HELLO TO THE ADMIRAL SCUMBAGS!"

"Hello Admiral-"

"ALL OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP! AND YOU! GET DOWN AND KISS THE FLOOR PRIVATE FAT-BODY!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

The poor guy immediately went prone in record time, already prepared for however many push-ups his punishment would warrant. I think most of us knew what this place would largely entail when we enlisted.

"YOU THINK I WAS FUCKING JOKING?! I SAID I WANTED YOU TO KISS THE FLOOR FAT-BODY!"

The private immediately faceplanted further in response, making sure the floor completely hid every feature of his face.

"WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING. PRIVATE?!"

Or we had all naively thought so anyway.

"Uh...sir?" 'Fat-body' responded, lifting his face off the floor.

"DO YOU SPEAK BASIC ASSHOLE?! I _SAID_ I WANTED YOU TO FRENCH KISS THAT CEMENT! I WANT YOU TO SLOBBER ALL OVER THAT FLOOR LIKE IT WAS ONE OF THOSE ELYSIUM BUFFETS YOU LOVE SO MUCH!"

"...sir. Yes, sir."

"I DON'T KNOW HOW THE HELL YOU WIGGLED YOUR GREASY ASS OUT OF FAT CAMP PRIVATE FAT-BODY BUT I CAN PROMISE YOU I _WILL_ CORRECT RCB'S MISTAKE. I _WILL_ TURN YOUR LARGE HULKING ASS INTO A LARGE HULKING _MASS_ OF MASS DESTRUCTION! IN FACT, I WILL TURN YOU _ALL_ INTO BLOOD-THIRSTY KILLERS! IF YOU ALL THINK YOUR NEW, FANCY-SCHMANCY GENE MODS ALONE WERE ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU MARINE-CERTIFIED, THEN YOU GOT ANOTHER THING COMING ASSHOLES! THOSE MODS DON'T ACCOUNT FOR JACK SHIT IN MY HOUSE. NO, BY THE TIME YOU LEAVE THIS CAMP, MY INSTRUCTION ALONE WILL BE RESPONSIBLE FOR EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU TRANSITIONING INTO A PEERLESS KILLER, TRAINED IN THE ARTS OF COMBAT AND WARFARE. THAT'S WHAT ALL YOU RETARDS ARE HERE FOR, ISN'T IT?! I SURE HOPE SO! BECAUSE IF YOU'RE NOT...THEN YOU'RE STRAIGHT SHIT OUT OF LUCK! AND SINCE I DON'T SEE ANY OF YOU FILTHY MUTTS OBJECTING YET, I DARE ASSUME THAT EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU SORRY, IMPOTENT, OCS DROPOUTS HOPE TO BECOME A SYSTEM ALLIANCE MARINE!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"WHAT THE- AM I TALKING TO A BUNCH OF DAMN JELLYFISH?! DO YOU ALL NOT POSSESS THROATS AND MOUTHS AND LUNGS THAT CAN MAKE AUDIBLE HUMAN SOUND?! BECAUSE I DIDN'T FUCKING HEAR A SINGLE THING ANY ONE OF YOU JUST SAID!"

"SIR, yes, sir!"

" _WHAT_ IN SAM HILL'S NAME WAS THAT?! AM I GOING CRAZY PICASSO!? DO MY EYES CURRENTLY DECEIVE ME?! BECAUSE IT SOUNDS TO ME LIKE I'M CURRENTLY STANDING INSIDE A GODDAMN ASARI LIBRARY INSTEAD OF A BARRACKS OWNED BY THE SYSTEMS ALLIANCE MARINE CORPS! I WILL ASK YOU ALL ONE. MORE. TIME. WHAT, DID, YOU, SAY, PRI-VATES?!"

"SIR, YES, SIR!"

"GOD DAMMIT! YOU JACKASSES THINK THIS IS A GAME?! I'LL...PRIVATE FAT-BODY! WHAT IN GRISSOM'S GREAT NAME DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO THOSE TILES?!"

He looked up pathetically, punishment assuredly eroding whatever pride he may have had left before arriving.

"STOP EATING OUT THE FUCKING FLOOR LIKE IT'S YOUR SISTER AND LEAD THE PLATOON OUT TO THE TRACK! FOR I FIGURE, YOU ALL AREN'T RAISING YOUR VOICES LOUD ENOUGH FOR ME TO HEAR, SIMPLY BECAUSE YOU ALL INTEND TO SAVE YOUR BREATH FOR PT INSTEAD! SO! I HAVE DECIDED TO BE A BENEVOLENT INSTRUCTOR AND OBLIGE YOU! DROP YOUR BAGS OF LOOT AND GRAB YOUR BOOTS! I WANT TO SEE ALL THOSE CHICKEN-SHIT LEGS OF YOURS OUTSIDE IN TWO LINES WITHIN THE NEXT MINUTE! YOU WILL ALL THEN BEGIN YOUR 5 KILOMETER RUN BY THE SECOND! YOU STOP? YOU DIE! YOUR BUDDY STOPS? _YOU_ DIE! PRIVATE FAT-BODY AND HIS BUDDY WILL BE TAKING THE LEAD! NOW MOVE IT! PHASE 1 STARTS TODAY SCUMBAGS!"

And our platoon's very first encounter with Drill Instructor 'Sir' pretty accurately set our expectations for the rest of our stay here.

* * *

 **October 7** **th** **, 2183 CE**

"LOOK IN FRONT OF YOU PRIVATE SUNSHINE. WHAT DO YOU SEE?"

"A pile of kits sir!"

"NO SHIT!? WHAT IS INSIDE THESE KITS PRIVATE SUNSHINE?!"

"Armor sir!"

"THAT'S FUCKING RIGHT! TODAY, YOU ALL WILL BE SUBMITTING YOUR VIRGIN BODIES TO THIS HERE HARD SUIT PROVIDED BY THE GENEROUS EMPLOYEES AT ALDRIN LABS. THIS SUIT WILL BE YOUR NEW SKIN. YOU WILL MARCH IN THIS SUIT. YOU WILL RUN IN THIS SUIT. YOU WILL BATHE IN THIS SUIT UNTIL YOU CAN NO LONGER DISTINGUISH WHERE THE SUIT ENDS AND YOU BEGIN! FOR THIS SUIT IS WHAT YOU WILL WEAR FOR THE REMAINDER OF YOUR DAYS. YOU WILL OWE YOUR LIFE TO THIS SUIT EVERY TIME YOU STARE DOWN THE BARREL OF A GUN. FROM NOW ON, IF I EVER CATCH YOU OUT OF THIS SUIT WITHOUT PERMISSION, I WILL MAKE IT SO THAT YOU CAN NEVER REMOVE IT AGAIN. IS THAT OKAY WITH YOU PRIVATES?!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"THEN GRAB A KIT AND GET DRESSED IN YOUR NEW UTES'N'BOOTS. WE WILL BE HITTING THE TRACK IN FIVE. LAST ONE TO FINISH GETS TO STAND WATCH WITH THEIR BUDDY TONIGHT! HOP TO IT!"

Fortunately for me, I was already _quite_ familiar with how regular armor worked. Though this was clearly anything but. The suits we were given were a lot lighter than the ones I was accustomed to, even lighter than the Onyx model I used to have. And there clearly weren't any shield batteries or ceramic plating or any other standard doodads on them. Most likely just some kind of training suit to get everyone ready for the real thing is what I wagered they were.

But anyways, even without instruction from Sir's assistants, I had still been the first one in the platoon to finish getting on my gear. Practice makes perfect right? Which of course, only earned me some unneeded attention as I began helping my battly buddy Strake with his own.

"LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE FOUND THIS EXERCISE A LITTLE TOO EASY! HOW ABOUT NOW PRIVATE!?"

And right when Sir tapped his omnitool was when I felt my body become crushed by an overwhelmingly oppressive force, known to most as the thing called gravity. I definitely hadn't been expecting it, which is why my knees quickly buckled beneath me, and why my head uncontrollably lurched forward into Fat-body's crotch.

"I HAVE FORGOTTEN TO MENTION THAT THESE SUITS ARE OUTFITTED WITH EEZO CORES, AND THAT I CAN MANIPULATE THE MASS OF EACH AND EVERY ONE WITH THE REMOTE CURRENTLY IN MY POSSESSION. IF I DEEM THE TRACK IS NOT CHALLENGING YOU AS MUCH AS IT SHOULD, I WILL ADJUST YOUR SUIT'S MASS TO MAKE THE COURSE SUITABLY APPROPRIATE FOR YOUR SKILL LEVEL. IF I DEEM YOU ARE NOT MEETING YOUR FULL POTENTIAL ON THE TRACK, I WILL ADJUST YOUR SUIT'S MASS TO SUITABLY PUNISH YOU. IF YOU ARE KEEPING PACE ON THE TRACK WITH EVERYONE ELSE, I WILL ADJUST YOUR SUIT'S MASS SIMPLY BECAUSE I FIND IT HUMOROUS. IS THAT OKAY WITH YOU PRIVATES?!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"GOOD. NOW GET YOUR PANSY ASSES OUTSIDE! YOU CAN FINISH DRESSING WHILE YOUR FEET BEAT THE GROUND! IT'S TOO BEAUTIFUL A DAY RIGHT NOW TO WASTE IT INSIDE! IN FACT, I FIND IT PERFECT FOR PT!"

* * *

 **October 8** **th** **, 2183 CE**

"Speakin' of PT, I think it's our turn to clean after we finish tomorrow."

"Oh really? Know where?"

"Naw, I wasn't payin' attention. Check the board in the mornin' will ya?"

I then groaned as the head of my bunkmate Whitey disappeared, having wasted my time yet again. And though he had only wasted little over a second, every one of them was vital, as we were currently in the middle of personal time. The only time we actually got to recuperate and chill with one another. It hadn't taken us very long to learn that personal time was our favorite time here on base.

Though I will admit, despite all my initial fears, and all the drilling...and all the marching...and all the ceremonial stuff. And all the boring classes. And all the torturous PT. And these awful suits. And the slop that they called food... I do believe I was beginning to actually appreciate what semblance of order I was getting out of our schedule. For it's a lot easier to live day to day when they're already all planned out for you. That kind of structure is something you really come to appreciate when you've recently experienced the exact opposite. When I was stuck in a hospital bed, I had so much free time I had gone stir-crazy more times than I could count-

"Hey Fat-body, whatcha got there?"

I turned to my right where aforementioned private was currently looking at a data pad.

"Hierse, can you stop saying that when Sir's not around?" Fat-body deigned to respond to the private across from him. "I really don't like it when you guys call me that."

"Tough titties. And the name's Corn," the other recruit responded. "Get it straight. You saw what happened to Zero when she called someone by their real name. I ain't busting my ass around the base just so I can spare your feelings."

And that's right, I think all of us had gotten our nicknames by the end of the second day, courtesy of our friendly neighborhood DI. None of them actually inventive mind you. Most just consisted of the very first thing Sir seemed to notice. I believe the reasoning behind Corn's nickname was that he was so tall and lanky he reminded Sir of a corn stalk. He pretty often joked in fact that Corn would be liable to blow away in the breeze if we didn't keep his feet planted on the ground. Fat-Body's nickname on the other hand kind of threw me, as it was more of a misnomer. Though the guy was pretty big, I wouldn't consider him overweight by any means.

"I don't know why you're even sensitive about it Excisi," I decided to just tell Fat-body straight up. "You're not even overweight. You're literally just muscle man."

"I appreciate that," he replied with a smile. "But I still-"

"-Still never answered his question," his bunkmate Ghoul then chimed in from above. And I think Sir gave Mondrial his nickname due to his thousand-yard stare and the dark rings constantly around his eyes. And those bags under his eyes have only become more pronounced as we've gone along, probably due to our sleep being cut short by all of Sir's hazing at like four in the morning.

And yeah. I think most agreed Boot Camp kind of sucked dick so far.

"It's just a letter from my parents," Fat-body eventually came to answer, sliding the data pad back into his lock box.

"That was porn bro," Corn ratted him out.

"No, it wasn't!" Fat-body shot back, face already red.

"I could see your stiffy from the other side of the room. Couldn't even wait for lights out before you started ricky boxing huh?"

"That's not true! Right Handy? I just showed him the letter!"

And that would be me, Private Handy of Bear Platoon. I think my name was particularly due to how helpful I always was around the barracks.

"I don't know man. I only caught a glimpse of what I thought was an elcor penis. Wasn't sure if that's how families communicated on Amateratsu or not."

Helpful? Haha, oh god no. It was just because I was missing half the fingers on my left hand.

Long story.

Anyways, the two artificial fingers I have function just as good as the real things, but can't say that Sir really cared. And Handy wasn't even the first nickname he gave me, just the most recent iteration our DI came up with since I last fucked up.

"What?!" Fat-body immediately let out in response, aghast at my betrayal.

"Wow, you're into some real deviant stuff. What kind of smut you got there?" Ghoul asked next.

"He's lying! I don't have anything like that on my pad!"

"Can you guys shut up? You're making it hard to read up here."

"Oh? If that's the case, why don't you just read between these lines instead?" Corn replied to Zero, holding up three fingers.

"Hey, stop!" Fat-body started again, grasping at Ghoul as he begun to rifle through his bunkmate's belongings.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"

Everyone in the barracks immediately quit their shit, shot out of their beds, assumed position, and cursed under their breaths as we had wrought Sir's ire upon ourselves again, wondering what the hell it was this time-

"PLEASE, ENLIGHTEN ME!"

Then to our surprise, Sergeant Sir suddenly dragged Private Asshole out from behind him. Not exactly sure how Asshole came to be called that, but-

"WELL?!"

In any case, luckily for us, Asshole's bunkmate finally found the courage to speak up.

"I believe that's Private Asshole sir!"

"OH REALLY?!"

"I believe so sir!" Wendy responded.

Though our barracks _was_ Co-Ed, Wendy was in fact, a dude. Though Sir apparently didn't notice that the first time he drilled him. Which I partially think was due to his real name already sounding pretty similar to Wendy. And partially because dude looked like a lad-

"WELL YOU SURE COULD HAVE FOOLED ME WENDY! FOR YOU SEE, I THINK ASSHOLE'S CURRENTLY MISSING SOMETHING! WHICH IS _WHY_ I DID NOT RECOGNIZE THIS PATHETIC PILE OF UTTER GARBAGE WHEN I FOUND HIM STINKING UP MY HALLS TONIGHT! TELL ME...WHAT DO _YOU_ THINK ASSHOLE HERE IS CURRENTLY MISSING PRIVATE?!"

"Sir, I...I don't know sir!"

"OH?! INTERESTING! DOES ANYONE ELSE HERE THINK THEY'RE SHARP ENOUGH TO NOTICE WHAT PRIVATE ASSHOLE IS CURRENTLY MISSING?!"

"...Is it his battle buddy? Sir?"

"WINNER, WINNER, CHICKEN DINNER! CONGRATULATIONS EINSTEIN! YOU ACTUALLY REMEMBERED THE VERY FIRST, AND _ONLY,_ THING YOU WERE TOLD UPON FIRST ARRIVING AT RECEPTION. SOMEONE GIVE PRIVATE FAT-BODY A MEDAL HERE FOR NOT BEING A COMPLETE AND ABSOLUTE RETARD!"

You could see Wendy immediately brace himself once he realized what was coming his way next.

"NOW, I REMEMBER YOU JACK-OFFS BEING TOLD AT RCB TO STICK TO YOUR ASSIGNED BATTLE-BUDDY AS WELL AS YOUR BALLS AND FLAPS DO TO YOUR SWEATY ASS CHEEKS! SO, IMAGINE MY SURPRISE WHEN I FOUND ASSHOLE HERE OUT AND ABOUT, HAPHAZARDLY MEANDERING THROUGH DANGEROUS TERRITORY ALL ALONE. SON, WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME WHO YOUR BATTLE BUDDY IS."

"Sir, Private Wendy, sir."

"OH?! PRIVATE WENDY? WHAT A SURPRISE! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY TO THAT PRIVATE WENDY?!"

"He said he was going to the bathroom sir. I didn't think I-"

"THAT'S RIGHT! YOU _DIDN'T_ THINK! SO YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK?! I THINK WE JUST FOUND OURSELVES OUR NEW LATRINE QUEENS! I WANT YOU BOTH TO PUT YOUR BEST EFFORTS FORWARD WHILE CLEANING THESE BARRACK'S BATHROOMS, BECAUSE YOU WILL NOW BE _LIVING_ OUT OF THEM! THAT WAY, YOU WILL NEVER LOSE EACH OTHER AGAIN WHEN YOU NEED TO PUMP AND DUMP!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"AND LET THIS BE A WARNING FOR ALL OF YOU DIRTBAGS. YOU DO NOT LET YOUR BATTLE BUDDY OUT OF YOUR SIGHT. IF YOU NEED TO TAKE A DUMP, YOU BETTER MAKE SURE YOUR BATTLE BUDDY IS RIGHT THERE, READY TO WIPE YOUR ASS FOR YOU! YOU FALL BEHIND ON THE TRACK, YOUR BATTLE BUDDY BETTER BE STRUGGLING, GASPING FOR AIR, DYING RIGHT THERE ALONG SIDE YOU! IF YOU ARE SEPARATED FROM YOUR BATTLE BUDDY, I WILL FIND THEM. AND YOU WILL LEARN THAT THEY DIED COLD, ALONE, AND FRIGHTENED, RIGHT AFTER I FUCKED THEM TO DEATH WITH MY RIFLE! THEN I WILL COME AND FIND YOU, DESTROY YOU, AND EVERYTHING ELSE YOU CHERISH IN YOUR IMMEDIATE VICINITY. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, YOU PIGS IN HUMAN CLOTHING?!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"AND I CAN IN ALL HONESTY NO LONGER TOLERATE THE FACES OF NIGHTMARISH HORROR CURRENTLY ASSAULTING MY VISION. LIGHTS OUT YOU DISGUSTING FREAKS!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Just one more thing to remember now I guess. Dammit.

* * *

 **October 12** **th** **, 2183 CE**

"DAMMIT! IF YOU SONS OF BITCHES THOUGHT THINGS WERE BAD BEFORE, THEN YOU'RE IN FOR A WORLD OF HURT NOW!"

Great.

"IF ANY OF YOU DIPSHITS CAN ACTUALLY COUNT, IT HAS BEEN SEVEN DAYS SINCE YOU ARRIVED HERE ON BASE. THAT MEANS THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF YOUR SECOND WEEK, HERE ON BASE! WHICH MEANS YOU ALL WILL START LEARNING HOW TO FIGHT ENEMY COMBATANTS WITHIN CLOSE. QUARTERS. COMBAT. ALL THRU A METHOD I LIKE TO CALL THE KISS PHILOSOPHY. IT STANDS FOR: KEEP IT SIMPLE, STUPID."

Now, upon first hearing this, I became quite excited. For this was the actual start of us learning how to finally fight. Hand to hand no less, the combat skill I needed most. My shooting had always been pretty alright...but this, this was what I really needed to knock my level up a notch. I mean, I would _actually_ start gaining the skills I needed to become a real bad-ass. I'd never make another mistake in going toe to toe with another alien again.

And of course, my mind was abuzz with what would we learn. What would be in store for us. Marine hand to hand? MAC? Krav Maga? Sambo? Sanshou? A combination of all these and more? This was an organization that transcended international boundaries after all-

"YOU WILL LEARN THREE THINGS: HOW TO DISENGAGE AND REGAIN SAFE FIRING DISTANCE FROM AN ENEMY. HOW TO REGAIN CONTROL AND FINISH AN ENEMY WITH YOUR SECONDARY WEAPON. AND LASTLY, HOW TO DISARM, SEPERATE, AND KILL AN ENEMY WITH THEIR OWN WEAPON."

I soon learned it would be none of them at all.

"THERE WILL BE NO FLIPPING. THERE WILL BE NO QUIPPING. YOU WILL NOT BE FIGHTING A DUEL TO THE DEATH WITH YOUR FISTS WHILE EXCHANGING ONE-LINERS WITH A BIRD IN DRAMATIC FASHION. YOU WILL REMEMBER THAT YOU ARE _HU-MAN_ , AND THAT EVERY SINGLE THING YOU ENCOUNTER IN SPACE CAN AND _WILL_ EASILY KILL YOU IF YOU DECIDE TO TRY AND PUNCH IT, AS THEY HAVE HAD CENTURIES MORE THAN YOU TO EVOLVE, AND ADAPT, AND THRIVE ON A MUCH SHITTIER AND MUCH MORE VIOLENT PLANET. AND YET, ' _But when will we learn how to take down a bird sir_?' IS SOMETHING ONE OF YOU IDIOTS STILL ALWAYS ASK."

'Bird' was a derogatory term a lot of guys used to refer to turians, on account of them sorta...looking like...birds...I guess? A cockatoo maybe but...yeah. Yeah I could see that.

"AND I WILL SAY WHAT I ALWAYS DO! SKULLFACES ARE FUCKIN' MADE OF METAL, ON ACCOUNT OF THEM LIVING ON A ROCK MORE IRRADIATED THAN HIROSHIMA! NOT ONLY IS THEIR SOFT GREY FLESH COVERED BY A NATURALLY OCCURRING METALLIC CARAPACE, SKULLFACES POSSESS CLAWS THAT'D PUT A UTAHRAPTOR TO SHAME."

'Skullface' was yet another inflammatory name a lot guys used to refer to turians, on account of their faces looking all skull-like and what not.

"SO YOU WILL NOT BE GOING TOE TO TOE WITH A FLIZZARD LESS YOU FANCY YOURSELF BECOMING A NICE SET OF FINELY CUT RIBBONS."

If you've caught on to the trend by now, 'flizzard' was just one more appellation Sir used to refer to turians. Though I had no idea where this one came from.

"That's BS," Trashman then whispered to no one in particular. "I've seen Hank 'Heavy' Henderson go toe to toe with turians before. They aren't anything special. I even watched him TKO one. Humans are just as strong as any bird-"

"A TRAINED MARINE MIGHT BE, YES!" Sir then yelled over us, Trashman apparently forgetting that the guy had superhuman hearing, to such a degree that we suspected he had illegal genemod work done. "BUT YOU UNDISCIPLINED PIECES OF GARBAGE COULDN'T FIGHT YOUR WAY OUT OF A PAPER BAG! COME UP HERE AND I WILL DEMONSTRATE!"

It took no time at all for Trashman to immediately regret his words, getting up and approaching Sir's stage like it would be the site of his execution. Though it might as well be. Once he was on it, the Trashman was then subsequently slugged in the gut, hard enough to warrant vomit.

"DO YOU SEE HOW HE WAS BROUGHT TO HIS KNEES WITH A SINGLE PUNCH RECRUITS!? A TURIAN COULD TAKE FIVE OF THOSE IN THE KISSER. AND A BAT COULD TAKE TEN BEFORE THEY BEGAN TO GET BORED! EVEN _THOSE_ FOUR EYED FREAKS ARE MEATIER THAN YOU MIGHT THINK! THEY HAVE TORSO'S SO TOUGH THAT THEY COULD POP RIGHT BACK UP AFTER BEING FLATTENED BY A CEMENT TRUCK. IF YOU DECIDE TO THROW YOURSELF AT ONE, YOU'LL FIND YOURSELF OVERPOWERED AND SUCKING DIRT BEFORE YOU CAN FINISH SAYING 'I CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS SUCH AN IGNORANT FOOL AND GOT MYSELF KILLED SIR!' DESPITE WHAT YOU MAY THINK, SALS ARE ALSO TOUGH SONS OF BITCHES. THEY ARE FREAKISHLY TALL, WITH FREAKISHLY LONG REACH. THEY WILL HIT YOU BEFORE YOU CAN HIT THEM. YOU WILL NOT BE PUTTING THEM IN A SUBMISSION HOLD ANY TIME SOON. I DOUBT ANY OF YOU CAN EVEN REACH THAT HIGH. _SOME_ OF YOU WORTHLESS SHEEP MIGHT BE STRONGER THAN AN ASARI. BUT THEY CAN RIP YOU APART WITH THEIR GODDAMN MINDS SO IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER! THAT IS, IF THEY DON'T CHOOSE TO DO SO THROUGH ONE OF THE TWO-HUNDRED OTHER DIFFERENT FIGHTING TECHNIQUES THEY HAVE ALREADY MASTERED OVER THEIR CENTURIES' LONG LIVES INSTEAD! HANAR TENTACLES CONTAIN ENOUGH NEUROTOXIN TO KILL A GREAT WHITE. ELCOR ARE TALKING ELEPHANTS. NEED I EVEN SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THE KROGAN?!"

I could maybe swallow the turian and asari bit. I've seen them all in action before. Sure. But hanar having enough poison to kill what could potentially be a two-ton shark? Thaaaat's pretty suspect. God I wish I could use my omni-tool on base. I'd call Sir on all his bullshit in a heartbeat-

"THE ONLY ALIEN YOU JACK-OFFS MIGHT BE CAPABLE OF TAKING DOWN ARE THOSE SENTIENT FARTBAGS THEY CALL THE VOLUS. AND YET, THEY FUCKING _EXPLODE_ WHEN THEIR SUIT'S ARE RUPTURED. SO YOU ALL WILL BE CONTENT WITH WHAT IS TAUGHT HERE AND NOW, AND YOU WILL ALL BE CONTENT WITH USING WHAT COMMAND GAVE YOU! _NOT_ MOTHER NATURE!"

"SIR, YES, SIR!"

"NOW FOLLOW YOUR DESIGNATED OFFICERS AND GET TO KICKING EACH OTHER'S ASSES! BUT YOU STAY WHERE YOU ARE PRIVATE MAZE!"

"Yes sir?"

"I WANT YOU TAKE TRASHMAN HERE TO THE NEAREST PILL PUSHER. I THINK HE MIGHT BE FEELING A LITTLE ILL!"

* * *

 **October 15** **th** **, 2183 CE**

I have to say, I was feeling pretty ill after this particular morning, continually sniffling as I attempted to dry myself off.

"Hey, can you do something for me Handy?"

With a sigh, I put down the towel I was using to dry my head, and turned to the recruit sitting beside me.

"Depends," I replied absent-minded. "What is it."

"Can you massage my feet?" my battle buddy then asked, now attempting to stick his toes in my face.

"Can you suck my dick?" I replied in turn, batting his stanky ass foot away. "Fuck off."

"Seriously Handy," Whitey continued. "After this mornin', I can't feel 'em anymore. I might have hypothermia. They've gone numb-"

I then decided to help my pal out since he was so worried.

"Ow! Fuck you man!"

"Oh, look at that. Guess they're fine after all," I replied with a grin, receiving a slug to my arm for my trouble.

"...seriously though, I don't know if I can take another day of this," he eventually spoke up again, rubbing his injured foot. "My brain can't even tell me when I'm sittin' or standin' anymore."

"You should be grateful for that," I enlightened him. "My feet are currently stinging like a bitch. I got so many blisters on them that they look like the back of a toad."

"What's a toad?"

That had me raise a brow.

"Did you just ask me what a toad was? Are you for-" And then it hit me that knowing your animals was kind of hard to do when there were billions of worlds full of them. "Oh. Almost forgot. You're from a colony, right?"

"Yeah. Born and raised out in the 'Verse. Surprised you remembered. But like I was askin'...the fuck's a toad."

"It's like a frog. Except warty."

"What's a frog."

"O-kay." No helping that. "Well...like I was saying...my feet are killing me too. They hurt when I just _think_ about walking anywhere now."

Whitey snorted in response, already putting his socks back on. "Yeah, I hear you. And I'm telling you, I'm done. I can't do this anymore Handy. I ain't going back to the grinder tonight. My body won't let me. I think I rather just be skullfucked by Sir. Marching in the middle of this storm was the last straw. And if I hear him tell us that we need to be 'nut to butt' in formation one more time I just might-"

"Hey. Whitey."

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Look, if you're going to ask me to date your sister, I wanna see a picture of her first. Cause if your busted mug looks anything like hers, I'm gonna pass-"

"Why'd you decide to join the Alliance?"

The mood immediately did a 180 as Whitey stopped what he was doing, clearly annoyed by the inquiry.

"What, we playin' twenty questions now? Why you always askin' shit like that?"

And I suppose I _had_ been a little too forward this time. Needed to work on that.

"I don't know," I could only shrug, gazing back out into the rain. "Just curious I guess. Wondering why someone would endure all this since it sucks so much ass."

"Well, why the hell are you then?" he bit back agitated.

"Well...if we're being honest here..." Which is something I've started to try recently. "...I suppose...it's because I want to feel like I'm worth something. And I think I'll feel that way by becoming someone who can actually make a difference in this place. I don't know. Something like that I guess."

And I felt him stare at my face for a good long while, trying to get a read on the actual sincerity of my words, obviously wary of all the BS our platoon constantly threw around, Whitey clearly not the type fond of sharing. But eventually, the guy stopped sizing me up, deciding to just stare out into the pouring rain instead.

"...I joined because I wanted to kill me some geth."

"And why not just let someone else do it? Why'd it have to be you?"

I really couldn't help myself today I guess.

"Heh. You're in the wrong place to be playin' at Doctor Phil, Handy."

While confused at the time, I later found out there's a popular show in the UNAS featuring a shrink with the very same name as that one from the 21st century. Dead serious. Finding that out really threw me through a loop. Some things never change apparently.

"If you don't feel like answering, I can drop it-"

"I grew up on Eden Prime. Have family back there." And as Whitey started up again...it would have been clear to anyone around that this was hard for him to talk about. "...I was a techie on a station orbitin' Zion when I heard about the attack. When the flashlights arrived on Eden Prime. Luckily for them...all the idiots back home got outta the area before those AI's completely obliterated the colony. And after helpin' my family rebuild the farm...and then hearin' about the geth attack on the Citadel...and how Commander Shepard died savin' everyone...I knew humanity needed people to step up. To protect innocent people from things like that. And I told myself I would be damned if I wasn't goin' to do my part."

Yet, despite his reluctance, he still shared all this with me regardless. And I deeply respected him for it. It took courage to talk to people about yourself. Something I've been trying to work on a lot recently. And surprisingly...his story had a much happier ending than I was expecting too. In any case, I just ended up nodding along as he finished.

"Wow."

"Shit," he ended up just laughing. "I don't think I've ever really talked 'bout that."

"You know, opening up to people once in a while is pretty nice. You should try it more often."

"...alright. I hear ya. But now it's my turn."

"Huh?"

"I get to ask a question now. Only fair."

"Okay. If I feel like answering it. Sure," I replied with a grin.

"Tell me how you lost those fingers."

I lost track of how many people have asked that since day one.

"I just told you and Ghoul that a couple days ago, didn't I?"

And at the mention of it, he became livid.

"Shut the hell up! You were bullshitting us out your ass back then!"

"Oh? Was I?"

"Hell yes!" he ranted. "We _know_ you didn't lose them to no thresher maw! You ran into a five-story worm and came out alive? Just minus two dickbeaters? Bullshit!"

I had to let out a sigh in response to that.

"Okay, okay. You're right, I haven't exactly been truthful about that with everyone. Not a story I really like telling but...if you really want to know...hm. You know, it was a while ago, it's all kind of a blur now-"

"I ain't got all day now, spill it. I want to know about the things responsible for wiping my ass."

No joke. Sir actually made us do that after we fucked up in formation the other day. Something about making sure to watch your partner's back and clean up each other's messes. Anyway, we had all learned day one that when you mess up...you _really_ mess up. Reminds you to double...no... quadruple check what you're doing before Sir comes to check.

"Alright, alright. Just give me a second to get it straight...though it didn't happen too long ago actually. So alright. I was on a team a couple months back, responsible for hunting down a fugitive from the law. A real grimy bastard."

"You used to be a bounty hunter? Get out of here."

"Kind of. Anyway, we eventually tracked down who we were looking for on a planet in the Horsehead Nebula-"

"How long it take?"

"Longer than it should have. Mm...okay. Right. So, upon landing, we found out we had touched down right in the middle of a snowstorm. Had trouble just getting permission to leave the starport's garage-"

"Oh. So, you ended up losing them to the cold huh?"

"Can a Terran finish a story?"

Whitey grunted in response.

"So anyway, as I was saying, we eventually got our vehicle out into the snow. We knew who we were after, what was with them, and where to go. But as we were driving down the path to their location, my team got caught in an accident. The six-wheeler we were riding in suddenly shot off the ground, careened through the air, weapons flew out of our hands, shit was crazy. We rolled like five times after we came back to the ground, which nearly knocked us all unconscious. And when our car eventually stopped, we had stopped _right_ before going off a nearby cliffside."

"No shit? Damn! How'd you wipe out? What'd you hit?"

"Nothing. Something had hit _us_."

"What? What the hell hit you?"

"Thresher maw."

"Goddammit," Whitey cursed in exasperation.

"I'm telling you Strake-"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU JAGALOONS DOING OUT HERE?!"

"Oh fuck-" we could only spurt before Sir let out the ass whoopin'.

"DON'T TELL ME THAT I JUST INTERRUPTED YOU TWO NANCIES JERKING ONE ANOTHER OFF!?"

"No sir! Negative Sir!"

"THEN WHAT IN GREAT AFRICAN APE SHIT ARE YOU TWO PILES OF STEAMING MANURE UP TO?! YOU'RE BOTH JUST HANGING OUT AND ABOUT LIKE THE PAIR OF SAGGY OLD TITS BELONGING TO MY DEAR OLD GRAM-GRAM! WHY ARE YOU NOT PERFORMING YOUR OBLI-GA-TOR-Y DU-TIES THIS AFTERNOON PRIVATES?!"

"Sir, it was our turn to wipe down the pick-a-nick area today sir!"

"THEN TELL ME! WHY YOU AREN'T DOING THAT?!"

"Because it's raining sir!"

"AND?!"

"It... it'll already be wet no matter what we do? Sir?"

"SOUNDS LIKE YOUR MOMMA'S PANTIES EVERY TIME I COME OVER WHITEY! COME THE FUCK OVER HERE SO CAN I POP YOU IN YOUR PASTY MOUTH! DOES IT LOOK LIKE I GIVE A SINGLE FUCK?! THAT'S NO EXCUSE! GET UP OFF THE FLOOR, SUCK IT UP, AND GET YOUR ASS TO WORK! WHICH IS ALSO WHAT YOUR MOTHER DID LAST NIGHT! AND YOU TOO HALFHAND! I WANT THAT AREA SO CLEAN AND DRY THAT A DRELL WOULD WANT TO CALL IT HOME!"

Damn. And I was just warming up to the name Handy too...

"Sir, yes, sir!" we made sure to both immediately reply, already back on our feet, butts off the ground, starting our jog towards utility, immediately drenched as soon as we ran through the rain. But we were at least grateful that we had been able to escape Sir with what little remained of our asses, as they had been pretty well chewed out this last past week. Before the mass of our suits suddenly felt like they were doubled that is. Damn eezo cores.

Sir was a pretty malicious son of a bitch.

* * *

 **Alliance News Network Daily Broadcast**

"Hello and welcome to the Alliance News Network's _Galactic Report,_ broadcasting to our viewers throughout the Arcturus Stream and Alliance Space. I'm Ruxius Rilius of the Arcturus Stream-"

"And I'm Christin-a."

"And today, chaos retook the streets of the Citadel as construction was halted on the Presidium by an organized march."

"REAL scary stuff."

"Arriving in great numbers, members of the Vol Protectorate took to the vast walkways of the Presidium, apparently marching in protest of humanity's recent invitation to join the Citadel Council. Having been an associate member for over several millenia, Irune and its citizens have expressed great outrage at this perceived slight to its people. Many members of the Protectorate fairly point out that the volus were the _third_ race to have discovered the Citadel, and have been associate members of the Council for over two thousand years. They are also solely credited with creating the Unified Banking Act, and devising the galactic economy as we currently know it."

"But they still weren't invited to the Council."

"That's right Christina."

"Which means the little farts were doing _something_ wrong."

"When interviewed, volus ambassador Din Korlack had several choice words for us that we cannot air or repeat on television-"

"Partly due to every other word he said being interrupted by his breather. It doesn't really make for good television."

"In fact, the Council's recent announcement that they would be opening a fourth seat for humanity has had a large majority of Council Space in shock. While humanity's heroic efforts at the Battle of the Citadel has endeared the Alliance to many, some still think it's far too early for humanity to gain a seat."

"And some people think Commander Shepard still lives."

"While the organized march was peacefully dispersed by C-Sec, leadership in the Vol Protectorate announced that they will not rest at this indignity dealt to the self-proclaimed 'vol-clan', and that they will continue to fight until all races receive equal advocacy in Council Space. However, the ambassadors of other associate Council members expressed little surprise that humanity was offered a seat, and in fact, believe the action was well-deserved-"

"Thousands of Alliance marines did sacrifice their lives to save them after all."

"But we will keep you updated as the story continues to develop."

"I wish the Assembly would pick me for councilor. First law I'd make would be to remove that awful tune that plays in every elevator on that station. I go insane every time I hear it."

"And we'll be right back after this commercial break!"

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

One pitfall I'm trying to avoid this time around is writing over-descriptive lines. Trying to keep things brief. Cut out long, unnecessary, overdrawn sentences that basically state or contribute nothing to the story at all save for bolstering its word count, prolonging our protagonist from actually doing anything of import and horribly misportraying how long the story actually is. Didn't really accomplish that here. But I think things should get rolling after the next chapter, when Shield REALLY starts his adventures in the world of ME. It'll get better, I promise. Anyways, apologize for the long wait, and hope you guys enjoy this somewhat odd chapter. Also, did you guys know that today was Shepard's Birthday?! Happy -137th Birthday Shep! (If not April 11th, disregard these last two lines)

* * *

 **Next time on Mass Effective: A Hero Lost!**

Shield learns he's not so special after all. GASP!


	3. Finger of Fate

**November 8th, 2183 CE**

 **SA Recruit Training Depot Prudence, Earth**

You know, besides constantly experiencing the endless unknown that is the 22nd century, there were very few things these days now that reminded me I didn't actually belong here. After the initial hysteria several months ago of awaking to find myself in the middle of a geth invasion...I had adjusted to my circumstances, my new life, pretty quickly. In what seemed like the blink of an eye. Just like that.

Though I suppose the excitement of interstellar travel, the monotony of living aboard a regimented starship, and the general unceasing chaos that transpired from hunting down Saren helped me push the issue back to the recesses of my mind. Made it easy to just kind of...forget. That I was a stranger in this place. It's not like I had the ability to even do anything about it. To go back if I wanted that is.

As I had no memory of my previous name. Or of my family. Or of the region I was born in. Or any other piece of information that could even remotely allow for investigation into instances of my previous life before waking here. Which always lent credence to me that it was no freak cosmic accident that had me end up here. That this was all some twisted Purgatory type scenario ala Lost, or some wacko situation like Total Recall, a virtual simulation gone horribly wrong.

But, like I've said before, I didn't give these dilemmas much mind anymore as time has marched ever onward. There was nothing I could truly accomplish through learning anything about it anyway. So why waste time on it? Would further knowledge of my background and how I arrived here even change my current circumstances as is?

* * *

 **October 27** **th** **, 2183 CE**

 **SA Recruit Training Depot Prudence, Earth**

The violent crack of gunfire filled the air around us, their raucous explosions deafening, saturating the field we sat in as the other platoons of our company had already begun their training for the day. But the cacophony of the firing range around us was still not nearly loud enough to drown out Sir's bellicose voice.

"BUT YOU WILL REMEMBER THIS! IF YOU JUICE UP SO MANY TIMES IN THE MIDST OF WAR THAT YOU LOSE COUNT, I WILL _PERSONALLY_ DELIVER YOU TO THE GATES OF HELL MYSELF! OVER RELYING ON THIS SHIT IN COMBAT _WILL_ CAUSE IT TO CEASE WORKING IN EVERY WAY, SHAPE, AND FORM; AND YOU _WILL_ DIE HORRIBLY BEFORE YOUR PEA-SIZED BRAINS CAN REALIZE OTHERWISE. I _GUARANTEE_ IT. DO I MAKE MY SELF CLEAR?!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"THEN GRAB YOUR GEAR AND HOP TO IT!"

I absentmindedly yanked my rifle up off the ground as our gunny finished, holding its stock close to my chest as we started lining up, one soldier per lane. But I couldn't force myself to focus. I remember feeling ill at the time. My mind already distracted, going a mile a minute as I parsed through what he had just said, made it hard to remember. Cause after hearing it all, I felt like an ass. Like I had just lost a piece of my very-

"Eyes forward, private!"

I pried my eyes off the grass and toward the officer now handing me a stim.

"Pay attention Crip! And take your buffer. Get your head in the game!"

I gingerly took it from him, gazing down at the stim as I took another step after the recruit in front of me.

"Alright! First squad, juice up! Just as Sir demonstrated!" the officer bellowed. "Though you will be issued different models after you graduate, almost every hardsuit you receive will generally have their stim ports located on your left shoulder, and will be where you will inject your stim like so."

I needn't see the demonstration again, performing the same action Sir did without hesitation, now aware I had already done so once before during the Hunt for Saren.

"Now, once you're done, command your suit's VI to hit you with a dose and-"

And I repeated the command I had used so many times before at an inaudible whisper, shock running down my spine as soon as that familiar sepia overtone took hold of my vision, my perception already drastically changing, officer's last remaining words leaving his mouth at a snail's pace. I then raised my rifle, tentatively peered down the Lancer's scope, pulled the trigger, and found my eyes practically able to trace the bullet just leaving my gun's barrel.

* * *

 **November 8** **th** **, 2183 CE**

Adrenaline Rush.

An ability that had saved my life on more than one occasion. An unnatural gift that once reassured me that I was special in this place. That I was unique among the others talking and breathing beside me. A superhuman power that allowed me to slow the passage time. Or rather, as I had just recently learned, quickened my reflexes to such a degree that everyone around me seemed sluggishly slow in comparison.

"Hey."

So, I had lost evidence proving that I was actually sane, and that I actually wasn't originally from this world. A power that slowed down time always lent credence to the fact that I might be in some sort of video game simulation type deal, that again...I was special. But in reality, the power had just been due to some damn good drugs already present in my hardsuit.

Back when we were chasing Saren, when adrenaline rush had become less and less effective with each subsequent use, I thought it had been due to some arbitrary cosmic law preventing me from abusing this 'game mechanic'. But no, it had just been my body acclimating to the suit's uppers with each dose. And at times when adrenaline rush hadn't worked period, I had thought it was because I was being punished for something, for making the wrong choice in the setting. But nope. That had simply been due to the fact that I wasn't wearing my armor at the time.

"Hey...Handy?"

So, I guess the crux of why that information had shocked me to my core was because I had just lost one of the few connections I had that kept me tethered to my previous life. Made me feel like an ass for believing I was some kind of messiah, possessing superhuman powers under my control. I mean, I should have realized this when we were learning about 'carnage' blasts, and how to use the 'assassination/marksman' protocols on our guns. That the games' 'powers' weren't anything out of the ordinary in this setting. So why would mine be any different-

"Hey, are...are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh! Oh, sorry. Didn't realize you were there FB. Was just in the middle of thinking about something and... what's up?"

"Really? Are you sure you're okay Handy? You look really troubled."

Fat-body was probably the only one who still used my old nickname from day one.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine-"

"I think Phase Three's just getting to him FB." Corn then turned his attention toward me. "You finally realize that the Alliance life just ain't for you huh Crip? I'm telling you, he's thinking about dropping out. I can tell just by looking at his face-"

"The only reason I'd drop out of the Alliance would be because I've had to look at yours every day," I quipped.

"Jealous of what you'll never have Crip? Because I've actually been told I'm quite handsome."

"By who? Your momma?"

Corn was about to open his mouth again before Fat-Body gently pushed him out of the way.

"Can you give us some privacy Corn? I need to ask him something. Alone. It's serious."

The private quickly held up his hands as he backed off, giving us some room, shit-eating grin still plain on his face as he turned around and struck up a conversation with Trashman instead. I then turned my attention back to Fat-Body, who was apparently struggling to find his next words, letting a moment of silence fall between us.

"...what's up FB?" I spoke up, deeming to break it myself.

"Oh, uh, nothing serious. I just...so...um...how has your packing been going? Are...are you all ready for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, mostly. Just have to stick a couple more things in my MOHLE. But besides those...I guess I'm pretty much done. That's not what you came over to ask is it?"

"No. No it wasn't. I just...uh...okay." The guy let out a sigh before trying again. "...do you think I could ask a favor of you Handy?"

"Sure man. With what?"

Though one should be wary when another guy asks you this, FB was the exception. When we first started, I don't think anyone disputed that FB was kind of a push-over when we were first getting acquainted with one another. He had a kind disposition, a heart of gold, and the temperament of a teddy bear, and during our interactions at night, it always showed. Always willing to help somebody out. Despite his demeanor and size, FB had still kept up with the rest of us, and you could always count on him to come through when the going got tough. If _he_ needed your help, you can damn sure bet it was for a worthy cause.

"Well, with that FTX tomorrow...and after all the things Sir said...I was just thinking about what we'd do if we had to split our platoon up tomorrow. And if so, you know, who'd be in charge of those other teams? If we end up having to do that, that is. And I was thinking that since you were on good terms with most of the guys, and you're always on top of things, if you...if you might be okay with leading one-"

An earnest smile came across my face as those last words left his mouth, and I gave him a mock salute in return. "I'd be honored to Squad Leader. You can count on me."

"Thanks, Handy," the guy responded in a sigh of relief. "Tomorrow's just really siking me out. I'm not sure what to expect. I just hope we all pass tomorrow."

"Hah, after the exercise last night, I'm sure this one will be a breeze."

"I sure hope so," he replied.

"Can you guys can it? I'm trying to get some shut-eye."

"Shut up Whitey," Corn replied from across the barracks.

* * *

 **November 9** **th** **, 2183 CE**

 **SA Staging Point Rhode-3, Earth**

The tent fell silent as the suggestion was made, a strong gust of wind blowing through the room in concert, sending most of the 'intel' on the table scattering about.

"And why would we want to split into three groups?" the girl across from me was first to ask, breaking the silence.

"Well, think about it," I began. "Each of these three objectives here will be guarded. And we only need two of them to pass. If we hit them one at a time, the guards at the two not already taken might band together and prevent us from reaching the second objective we need. But if we hit two of them at the same time, the enemy group stationed at the third won't be able to reinforce either position in time to help."

"And if one of us or either group can't take their objectives alone?"

"That's where _our_ third group comes in. Unlike the enemy, our group will be close enough to help either team if they need it."

"Oh! And they could help coordinate between both teams since they'd be able to observe what's going on from safety," FB helpfully added, popping up with the 'intel' messily gathered in his arms.

"It's still riskier than just moving in together," Super replied.

She then crossed her arms, continuing to glare at the holographic picture projecting from the center of our table. The blue diagram in front of her depicted a large map of the basin we would be in by dawn, with four points on it clearly highlighted. The point furthest south was Point A, called 'The Drop', and where we would apparently be entering the combat zone. Point B was a 'turian artillery gun' aimed at HQ, and was located in the valley's far west. Point C was an 'enemy refueling station' supporting hostile aircraft, and located towards the east. And Point D was an urban environment taken by the enemy, and their forward outpost, found at the circular arena's northernmost point.

After successfully planting bombs on two of these three objectives, we would then be given the coordinates of our extraction point, Point E. Upon arrival, we would then be scored on how quickly we had completed our mission, and how many of us had made it to safety. We would also be competing with the other platoons of our company: Lion, Seadog, and Tiger. To be honest, some sort of competition was always going on between us now that I think about it. But this time was different, as the 'highest scoring' team on the course got to skip PT during recovery week, significantly upping the stakes for everyone involved.

"If this works though, we _would_ finish this thing as fast as humanly possible," I reassured her. "I know it's a heavy risk but...think of the priiize."

The brunette scrunched up her nose in response, eyes flicking over to FB who was as ambivalent as always. And-

"...fine," she eventually conceded, before scratching behind her ear and nodding back to the display. "But we're hitting Points B and C. Non-negotiable."

"Fine by me," I replied with a sigh, pushing off the table, finally satisfied now that I got her onboard with the plan.

Since Super, short for Superwoman, was one of the more talented soldiers of our group, and the ringleader of most of the girls, her say-so would go a long way in getting the rest of the platoon to follow suit. With the senior officers giving us free reign over how we approached the exercise, FB being partial to whatever we did, and with the others not particularly caring, the final plan pretty much depended solely on her approval.

"How are we going to divide up the teams then?"

"FB?" I turned to ask, passing the buck along to him, as he _was_ squad leader.

"Uh...I'd be fine with coordinating the reserve team. Is that okay? Would you two be alright with leading teams taking the objectives?"

"Yes," Super immediately responded, now clacking away at her omni-tool. "I'll take everyone from Sunshine's bunk to Zero's. That should put my team's strength at about eighteen."

"And I'm game," I answered. "I'll take my bunk and, uh, everyone down from Corn's. Which I think is also eighteen people?"

"Which will leave the remaining sixteen left for you," Super told FB, finishing the math.

"I call Point B!"

"Then we'll take Point C," she responded. "Anything else we need to discuss?"

"Equipment?" I proposed.

"Sunshine's already cataloguing what's currently on-site here. I was planning to take care of it next," Super replied.

"We'll most likely just need MRE's. We won't be out there for more than half a day."

"And if our rifles jam? Helmet cracks? Our communication line goes out?"

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll leave that all up to you then."

"Good idea."

"Awesome. We just need to tell everyone the plan then," I finished, dusting off my hands. "Alright. Good work team. This will be a walk in the park."

"I hope so," FB muttered as another breeze found its way inside our tent again.

* * *

 **November 10** **th** **, 2183 CE**

 **SA FTX Site Rhode-3, Earth**

Another strong gust of wind suddenly rolled over the forest floor, violently rustling the leaves around us, masking the sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves underneath heavy boots. Long shadows cast by tall trees overhead also covered the unit's advance, as we all continued to edge closer and closer to our ultimate objective. I was beginning to stop our advance every other meter now, always double checking our position on the map, making sure we were still on par for the course. Just to reiterate, my omni-tool's holographic display was set to project solely inside my helmet alone, preventing any chance of its orange light betraying our position to the enemy. Because we were close.

I brushed aside another low-hanging branch quietly, slowly, carefully, after again confirming our current location. I motioned for the clear, resuming our crawl, as we came closer and closer to the object jutting out over the treetops, realizing now that we only had several more meters to go. I then cursed as yet another branch suddenly whacked my helmet. While it may have concealed our approach, this forest had made it extremely hard for us to go forward. Paired with my frequent stops and false signals, we were now running behind schedule, helmet's VI currently putting us ten minutes behind our original projected arrival. Which wasn't good. But I put all that aside for now as I pulled myself forward one last time, realizing that I had just crawled out of the underbrush. On a split decision, I quickly got up and darted forward, diving underneath a fallen log several paces away. And the several guys behind me did the same.

Our caution had been worth it, as we now had a clear line of sight on our target. Across from our cover, a couple of soldiers clad in blue stood nonchalantly behind waist-high barricades made of concrete, seemingly bored out of their minds, 'guarding' the single point of interest in the area around us. Which happened to be a several ton, twenty-meter long, 800 mm firing replica of a turian cannon emplacement. And in response to my recent finding, I brought a finger straight to my helmet and radioed the rest of my squad.

"Are you all in position yet?"

"This is Corn. We just reached the top of the slope. We count seven tangos at your 12 o'clock. Four standing behind the cannon near the cliffside, and three others in the front."

"This is Trashman's team. And yeah, we got eyes on the clearing too. We have two tangos from your 2 o'clock, but only see six at your 12. Three behind the cannon, three in front."

"Alright, then we have nine in total," I whispered back. I then went ahead and radioed 'command' next. "My team's ready. Currently outnumber the enemy two to one. Are we cleared to engage Squad Leader?"

"Oh! Yes! Super said she's already in position, and waiting on you," FB's voice immediately responded inside my helmet. "I'll tell them you just reached Point B. You're free to engage whenever you're ready."

"Gravy," I replied, immediately switching back to my squad's channel. "Okay. Corn's team, take the four in the back. My team will get the three in the front. And Trashman's team will take the two on their side, and then assist fire on any remaining targets they can find. Watch where you shoot, try not to hit any friendlies, and we'll all move on the cannon together when I give the final clear. Everyone copy?"

"Yup."

"Ready!"

"Alright then. Weapons free!"

And with that, my team open fired, a hailstorm of bullets falling upon the unsuspecting guards. The oncoming barrage caught nearly every single one of them stationed around the cannon, our onslaught coloring the enemy team a bright red with every practice round that found its mark. Most of the enemy soldiers hit the floor within the first few seconds of the volley, the rest having a little more time to shout out in surprise and return fire, though it wasn't long before their suit's eezo cores eventually kicked in as well, causing them to plummet to the ground and play dead like their comrades. Definitely wasn't a fair fight, I could tell you that.

Corn was already sliding down the slope to our left before everyone had even finished firing, the rest of his team following suit, apparently mishearing me when I announced that I'd give the go-ahead for when it was actually safe to leave cover. But then again, I decided to give them some leeway, as it was pretty evident to all that we had just effectively cleared the area. Following their lead, Trashman and his squad emerged from the brush on our right, and with a sigh, I decided to mimic them as our goal was all but accomplished.

It didn't take long for most of them to immediately start dicking around however, talking shit and poking fun at the enemy team we had just slaughtered. Thank god they were still immobilized by their suits otherwise we'd probably be getting our asses kicked by the veterans right about now. Anyways, despite clearing our objective, it was clear Super and her squad were still having trouble with theirs. The sound of far-off gunfire still plagued the air.

My attention returned to present company once I noticed Wendy joining us, as he was our VIP, the guy in possession of our mission's final pièce de résistance. Our team's mock detonator rig. Once we set up this 'bomb' on the cannon, our job here was done, and we could rejoin FB and his Able Squad back at the center of the course. Maybe even head out to help Charlie if they still hadn't cleared their objective by then. Then the three other privates guarding our rear quickly followed Wendy in next, bringing with them the rest of our contingency equipment Super chose; a bunch of gear we lugged with us just in case things went FUBAR. Radio, spare rifles, portable cover, etc. And with several guys already watching the tree line, one team beginning to form a perimeter, and the rest of the gang poking around at the 'dead' soldiers, talking mad shit, I decided to phone big brother.

"Easy Squad has just completed their objective," I reported, starting things off on a good note. "I have Wendy bringing in the bomb now. What's Charlie's current sitrep, command? They need back-up?" A few seconds passed with no response. Finding that troubling, I repeated myself over the comm again. And that was when I froze, just now realizing I was receiving static for my trouble. "Hey. FB? Are you there? What's wrong?! Come in!"

"Everything okay squaddie?"

"I don't know," I replied to a fast-approaching Whitey. "Able Squad isn't responding over comms-"

"Hey, we're getting something over the block!"

"What?"

My attention was now called over to our current 'radio technician', Toothless. A guy named so for the awful smile a childhood accident had granted him. Pretty sure he had just joined the Alliance for their dental plan but he wasn't too bad-

"Well, I had this thing on silent until now," he started. "-because we were creeping up on the cannon and, you know, I didn't want it to suddenly go loud and give away our position. Uh, and, I know FB already has the team channel to call us on...but if he HAD called us over the radio instead, uh, I think it would have given our position away and that would have been bad. Like I said. Which is why it was off. And-gah!"

I immediately pushed the kid aside as I wasn't getting any answers from him any time soon, and hunched myself over the radio instead, inputting a few commands to immediately pull up its interface and answer the call.

"This is Easy Squad, what's your situation, over?!"

"Oh, thank the maker," I immediately heard FB gasp over the radio unit. "Listen, we were just-"

"Have you planted the bomb?" I suddenly heard Super intercede, out of breath.

"Super?" I was quick to respond. To state again, she was in charge of Charlie Squad. Which was supposed to be attacking the opposite side of the basin. If she was beside Fat-body right now-

"Have you finished setting up the rig yet?!" she shouted over the console louder.

I gave a quick glance over my shoulder at Wendy, still in the process of affixing it under the cannon.

"No. And what the hell's going on, over?"

"We were attacked!" FB spoke up next. "And I think they're coming for you guys next!"

"Heads up!" I immediately yelled over the raucous around me. "Eyes on the trees, now!"

The rest of the guys were disciplined enough to immediately drop what they were doing with the announcement, already training their guns on the forest around us, doubling up behind one another.

"Why isn't our comm line working, over?" I then asked.

"I think it's because they just began simulating an environmental hazard; our lines went down right as these clouds began rolling overhead. Omni-tool's too!"

I double-checked mine, quickly realizing he was right. And that would mean we no longer had a map of the surrounding area either. If we abandoned this position...we might not be able to find it again.

"Are you sure they're headed in this direction," I questioned, eyeing a rotten log about a dozen meters out.

"Yes! We don't know how many there were exactly, but they peeled off as soon as we began heading for Point C," FB went on. "You have to get out of there-"

"Belay that order! If the bomb's not ready, you're going to have to stay there and defend it," I heard Super cut him off again. "We need TWO-"

"TAKE COVER!" I shouted, cutting her off right as a round whizzed by my head.

 _Adrenaline Rush._

Leaving the radio where it lay, I uttered the phrase in my head that had saved my ass so many times before, popping up from where I crouched. With my senses heightened, mind focused, body set, I then made a beeline straight for the cannon, diving under one of its arches as the enemy's blaster fire began to sweep over the entire clearing, taking out a large chunk of my team and sending the rest scattering for cover.

I crawled as fast as I could underneath the monstrous turian artillery, hearing rounds ricochet around me as several shooters hounded my escape. Luckily for me, after weeks of kissing the floor, I was quite used to being on it. I emerged on the other side of the giant gun without a scratch, and right where Wendy was currently setting up the bomb.

"Woah, Crip?! What's happening?!"

"We're being ambushed. Just focus on that bomb!" I then pulled up my omni-tool, attempting to detect how many guys were exactly out there at the moment-

But I quickly found out to my displeasure, in addition to our communications, that they had also shut down our handhelds too. Which was bull, since a real issue omni-tool wouldn't putter out like these BC issue ones. I mean, how many times in the game would you be fucked if your omni-tool was shorted out in the middle of a fight-

I spun around and fired three short bursts into the soldier peeking around the corner, painting his face tomato red and dropping him to the floor.

"Oh boy," Wendy immediately spurted in response to the event, freezing where he was.

"HEY!" But my shout quickly snapped him out of his stupor, causing him to peel his eyes off our recent intruder. "I'll cover you man! Just get that set!"

"Right!" he shouted right back, bending back over to continue clicking in what he needed to. The payload needed at least five minutes for set-up. Which I hoped meant we needed only to hold out for two more-

The nozzle of my gun lit up again as another combatant tried to cut the corner. And again when another used his predecessor's immobile body for cover. After I took him down, I thought it prudent to immediately secure it. If I was too slow, both me and Wendy would be trapped with nowhere to go in that narrow corridor between the cannon and this cliffside above us.

I immediately regretted my action however as I peeked my head around the artillery's support beam, and found my helmet immediately assaulted by enemy fire. I was so used to having kinetic barriers in a fight that I hadn't realized how idiotic that was. Damn dummy suit. Without shields, you really do go down just like that.

As my vision went dark red, glass visor cracking, suit activating its eezo cores and shutting down, causing me to plummet into the dirt, head aching all the while, I could only hope I had bought Wendy a second more to finish the job. Really didn't want to be the one responsible for our platoon failing the field exercise. Which fell to the back of my mind as I felt something warm slowly drip down my face. My shut-down suit prevented me from raising a hand to check my face however, leaving me in the dark. And that dark overtook me shortly after.

* * *

 **November 11** **th** **, 2183 CE**

 **SA Recruit Training Depot Prudence, Earth**

 **Office of Garrison Command**

"-and while the two other units of Bear Platoon regrouped at Point C, the remaining members of the 109th's 1st Battalion, having abandoned Point D entirely, then converged on Point B, isolating it from any reinforcements."

"And who ordered them to abandon their station?"

"Captain Harden stated that he only did so after receiving a command straight from the depot sir. Despite several marines confirming his story, claiming to have overheard the order themselves, we found no records of this in our logs."

"And what caused the site's blackout officer?"

"We're still not sure, sir. Ginobili strongly suspects someone sabotaged the relay, but could find no evidence of tampering when his team arrived on site to investigate."

"I want to speak with this Captain Harden myself."

"I'll arrange it immediately...and may I have permission to speak, sir?"

"Granted."

"With the information on hand...someone would have had to have intimate knowledge of our protocols to execute something of this magnitude without leaving behind a trace of evidence. We very well suspect someone on this very base is responsible for this incident."

"But you're telling me we have no leads whatsoever?"'

"Nothing concrete yet, sir. The 109th was unable to ascertain who had used the live ammunition after the exercise ended."

"Do we actually have any evidence showing this even happened at all?"

"Besides the wounded private and personal accounts? ...no, sir. The records state no failure happened whatsoever."

"Damn it..." The colonel now brought a hand to his head, massaging his temple. "...we can't let word of this get out. If that recruit dies and we have nothing to show for it, AIS agents we'll be crawling over this base for the next solar year. We won't be able to shit without them watching us. They might even shut us down. We can't let that happen. Tell the Captain to keep this incident quiet. I doubt he wants this event to be put on his unit's record either."

"I'll do so shortly, sir."

"Thank the Lord whoever was after him only beaned the poor bastard...he is still alive yes?"

"That's quite right sir. Condition appears to be stable."

The colonel took one last drag before grounding his cigarette in the ash tray on his desk. "What exactly is this recruit's background again?"

"He was marked as earthborn, but undocumented. Reportedly lived most of his life in the Traverse. His file also reports that he's had previous field experience before enlisting with the Alliance. He already has several recommendations given by his instructors as well."

The colonel gave a pained sigh.

"Hope our Mister Shield didn't join just to escape whatever dirtbag life he used to have. It seems pretty damn intent on following him wherever he damn well goes. Fuck." The old officer massaged his temple. "I don't need this shit. Mark his docket of special interest to the AIS, and just make sure he graduates by the end of this term. I don't want him on this base any longer than he has to be."

"Right away, sir," his deputy replied while making for the door, knowing the colonel well enough to recognize that he was now done with the matter.

The colonel turned his back on him in turn, taking the brief opening in his schedule to now stare out his office window, gazing out over his base.

"What in the hell did you bring to my base son," the colonel muttered to himself.

* * *

 **November 22** **nd** **, 2183 CE**

 **SA Recruit Training Depot Prudence, Earth**

"So, they really didn't tell you anything?"

"Nope. Just said I was good to go and kicked me out before I could even grab a lollipop."

"FAT-BODY!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"YOU ARE B-1, INFANTRY. CONGRATU-FUCKING-LATIONS."

"Thank you sir!"

"That's messed up," Whitey eventually picked back up as Sir paced to the other side of the barracks. "Ah hell, I'm sure you've had enough of talking 'bout all that shit. We're just glad to have ya back man. Though it blows it didn't happen sooner."

"Yeah, yeah, it sucks to get back so late. But I'm sure I didn't miss much. I bet you all just sat here wiggling your dicks without any PT going on, right? Haha-"

"We sure did. And that was all thanks to you, wasn't it," Whitey replied, holding out his arms in thanks.

"What? Haha, naaaw. That was all Wendy, bunkering down while being attacked on all sides. And Super too. Taking Point D while everyone was attacking us? I would have never dreamed of doing that. Getting all three objectives. We really rocked that shit huh?"

"Don't give me that modest bullshit. If you hadn't taken that misfire, it probably would have hit Wendy. And you know his scrawny ass would have bled out in seconds-"

"RETARD!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" I immediately shouted upon hearing my newest name, recently awarded to me as only a retard could nearly get themselves killed in a non-lethal exercise.

"YOU ARE K-1, XENOLOGICAL SPE- XENOLOGY?! WHAT IN MUHAMMED THE MAGANIMOUS' NAME IS THIS?! ARE YOU A FILTHY ALIEN LOVER PRIVATE RETARD?! HAVE I BEEN HARBORING A XENOPHILE UNDER MY STATION UNAWARES THIS ENTIRE TIME?"

"Yes sir! I find aliens very interesting, sir!"

"YOU MAKE ME SICK RETARD! IF THIS WASN'T YOUR LAST DAY, I WOULD BEAT YOUR ASS SO BLUE THAT THOSE ASARI DELINQUENTS OF YOURS WOULD BE GREEN WITH ENVY."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"I'll miss ya, man," Whitey eventually whispered once Sir then moved on to Corn.

"YOU ARE J-1, MEDICAL. I HOPE YOU ENJOY BLOOD SON!"

"We're all in the same company man. We'll see each other at the end of AIT," I replied to my bunkmate, clasping his hand in mine. "Until then."

"Until then," he replied with a grin.

* * *

 **Winter, 2183 CE**

Later that day, after we made our beds, retrieved all our former belongings from impound, and we all said our goodbyes, every private of our company boarded a shuttle that took us straight to Arcturus, the Heart of the Alliance, where we'd be processed and sent to our designated sites for Advanced Individual Training. Which would be the place you'd learn more about your actual profession, otherwise known as AIT. Unlike most of of my platoon...I felt I already had a hang of shooting things. Which is why I went for the MOS titled 'Xenological Specialist' instead of infantryman. Personnel trained in alien languages, both body and linguistic, guys who learned all about alien histories and cultures, and acted as liaisons to those your unit met. Pretty bad ass. When I learned that profession was an option during the SA's aptitude test, you could be damn sure I was going to go for it. Guess 'Sir' should have called me lucky since I actually got the role.

Anyway, it didn't take too long for me to learn that I would be heading to the Citadel of all places for my training too, which made sense, as there was a whole gaggle of aliens constantly mingling with one another there. A pretty good way to start teaching someone how all these different extraterrestrial cultures interacted with one another, and how to understand each and every one. Am I right? And I had to say...I was pretty excited for it. I must have had a smile on my face the entire time I was aboard Arcturus, right up to the point I boarded the Kodiak scheduled to depart for the Widow Relay. Learning about aliens...shit was pretty baller.

And as that shuttle left for Citadel Space, I gazed down at the bag sitting in my lap once again. The rules at the Prudence training depot prevented one from possessing most things they brought in, and so, all of my belongings had been stuffed inside it, and put away into a storage on-site. So, now that I was done, my Blue-Wire Omni-tool was once again where it belonged, smothering my right hand. And an ancestral turian blade was strapped and hidden under my pant leg, sheathed of course. Four geth thermal clips were now back in the chamber of my gun. And said gun, the only weapon I truly ever needed, was currently holstered on my right hip.

Despite the incident during my platoon's FTX, I knew I was ready for the next big step. To improve the person I currently was. To become something that could actually instill change in this galaxy. I was eager to learn from the experts on the Citadel. To start changing events for the better. To pop by and see what Garrus has been up to lately. And oh, speaking of old friends-

I should probably mention this all changed right after I received a message from Liara telling me that Shepard was still alive.

* * *

 **Alliance News Network Daily Broadcast**

"Hello and welcome to the the Alliance News Network's _Galactic Report_ , broadcasting to our viewers throughout Arcturus and Alliance Space. I'm Ruxius Rilius of the Arcturus Stream, and today in our studio, we have quite the special guest. For a special segment with a story exclusive to Alliance News Network, is the anchor of our sister show _Battlespace_ -"

"Diana Allers. And I have to say, it's great to be here in the studio Rilius."

"Please, call me Rux."

"After confirming the story with multiple sources that wish to stay anonymous, I am here to report that the rumors of an inbound raid on the colony of Fehl Prime WAS in fact in the making, and was halted only days before their planned assault by Alliance patrols."

"Are you saying that the rumors of Geth planning to launch another offensive in the Attican Traverse were true?"

"No Rux, in fact, sources say that it was actually a _terminus pirate band_ that planned to raid the colony. And one of the officers onboard the ship responsible for halting this offensive spoke that the size of the pirate fleet actually rivaled that of the Skyllian Blitz."

"My word. And you're saying one ship was able to dispatch all these raiders?"

"That's right. And I'm sure the audience will be eager to hear that it was by one of the most famous and decorated ships in Citadel Space, Rux."

"Are you speaking of the-

"The SSV Normandy. That is correct. The frigate was reportedly patrolling the Traverse for pockets of Geth still lingering in the region when they came across the pirate fleet. Under direction from one Captain Eli Zander, the Normandy was able to scatter the pirate fleet, driving them out of the system, and preventing a travesty that could of rivaled that of the Raid on Mindoir."

"No wonder the Alliance wasn't planning to release this information anytime soon-"

"We actually attempted to contact the captain about his daring attack, but when reached, he reportedly had no comment, save that certain bridge members, notably Flight Lieutenant Rason, were invaluable to the Normandy and her efforts in the Traverse. We also discovered that the pirates planning the attack belonged to a licensed mercenary organization operating in the Terminus. Known as the Blood Pack in some pockets of Terminus Space, this mercenary band is notorious for their violence and brutal methods in completing jobs for their clients. When asked about the incident, the public spokesman for the organization gave us the official statement that 'they weren't responsible for what their captains did for fun in their spare time'."

"That's outrageous."

"It certainly is Rux. We can only thank the brave crew of the SSV Normandy for saving those colonists from what could have been a devastating attack, and the officers aboard who caught wind of the pirate's plan and stopped them in time. Just another day for the men and women who once crewed for the Hero of the Citadel."

"Thank you for bringing this story to light Diane. I think we can all rest easier knowing that the Alliance has such brave heroes defending her."

"Thank you for having me on the show Rux."

"When we come back, Shastri's new standing on colonial aid to Eden Prime, and geth activity reportedly spotted at the edge of the Skyllian Verge."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Okay, so boot camp was going to have a LOT more daily life events, team bonding, ramifications for the FTX exercise gone wrong, and in-universe game mechanic explanations, but then I realized I'd be on Chapter 10 with Shield still in boot camp so I 86'ed all of it. Hopefully I can squeeze some more stories of Shield's time there in the future, but let's be real, this story's just beginning. Let's get to the ACTION! Don't want this story to take another two years haha-

Oh god what am I doing.

* * *

 **Next time on Mass Effective: A Hero Lost!**

I guess if you _really_ wanted to, you could just read Mass Effect Redemption. But just make sure to have bleach on hand.


	4. Curtain Call

**November 16** **th** **, 2183 CE**

 **Block 4 Debriefing Room, C-Sec HQ, Citadel**

Thirteen hours.

She had been in this room- or rather- _held_ in this room, chained to her seat, for thirteen of the Citadel's galactic standard hours. Perpetually accosted by the one seated opposite her as question after question came her way. And there she sat, as that was all that was capable of her, enduring barb after barb from her cold-hearted investigator, incapable of even trying to explain what had happened, every attempt to speak a ten-foot hurdle to overcome. What had happened to all of them...naught just a week ago...all she could currently think of now was that she was, to be simply put...tired. Exhausted. Wanted nothing else but to just go back home and sleep in her own bed for once. Something she had not been able to do for months.

How pleasant would that be? To have the privilege of waking up tardy, several hours late into the evening, and leisurely stroll across the street from her vista to visit her favorite bakery? Relish nibbling on some of Serrice's renowned sweetbread, all the while pulling up and going over the most recent theses her students had just released-

This entire event had been flabbergasting to her. When it had all started the morning of yesterday...she had been nerve-wracked. She had looked down at her hands and they had been visibly shaking. She could barely sit still in her seat even now, terrified of what exactly they were even accusing of her. Though she hadn't even done anything wrong, it seemed like they were all insinuating that-

"Mm. May you be so kind and elaborate on that?"

The room around her was dark, bleak, and small, so small that it was barely large enough to accommodate the stainless-steel table and two utilitarian chairs propped up on either side of it. And likely designed so on purpose she surmised, to make the accused feel trapped. Make it impossible for them to feel like they were in any position of power. Had any instance of control control. Make them feel like they were completely helpless-

"Doctor."

She returned her gaze to the woman across from her.

"I do not know what you mean."

"What I _mean_? I _mean_ elaborate on when you said it was... 'gone'. It was the size of the small corvette. Something like that doesn't just tend to vanish into thin air."

"I...it was gone. I don't know what else there is to say. I-"

The asari held up her hand while using the other to rub her temple, obviously struggling to keep her cool, as she had most of the day, the length of their session now clearly getting to her as well. Her interrogator then clapped her hands together.

"...I don't know how many times I have to tell you this _doctor_ , but you have me on my very last nerve. After the events that recently transpired with your team, and in light of the fact that you're the only one in a stable enough condition from the expedition to tell us what exactly happened, I'm going to need you to get me more descriptive answers than 'it's gone'. Okay?"

"I...I told you what I saw when I arrived back at the site. I had just returned, and the camp was in ruins, people were laying across the ground, crying for help, and...and my first instinct was to look for it, to make sure it was undamaged...instead of running to help...I...but when I looked up for it, it...it was just gone-"

"By the fucking goddess!" The asari across from her slammed her hands against the table before shooting out of her chair, face quickly turning bright purple. "Do you understand what's at fucking stake here doctor?! The safety of every living being aboard this station, and fuck it, throughout Citadel SPACE could be affected by what exactly happened on your little 'expedition'! If you don't tell me-"

"Vasir! That's enough!"

The fury of the asari spectre vanished as soon as she had heard the voice behind her, and she begrudgingly turned her head around to address the room's newest guests. The newly appointed Executor of C-Sec now standing in the doorway seemed none too pleased with her, and neither did the friendly face behind his.

"She's free to go."

"Excuse me?" the spectre responded with a laugh. "I'm sorry to break it to you, but you got no business here. Last I checked, this was Spectre business Chellick-"

"Not anymore," the turian with robin blue tattoos on his chin coldly replied, stonewalling her. "The Council has just given C-Sec full jurisdiction over this case due to its...sensitive nature. They've decided to give you all the Terminus site instead. Though, seeming that you didn't receive the recent update...I guess you won't be one of the Spectres going. Shame that. In any case, your time here is done."

"What? You don't have the-"

"It's already done," the Executor finished.

The other turian standing behind him, the one sporting a unique visor and a single blue horizontal line across his face then took his turn to speak, making a gesture to the doorway.

"Come on. You're free to go Liara."

* * *

 **December 12** **th** **, 2183 CE**

"Liara? Hello? ...Liara!"

"Hm?" she lazily muttered, finally turning over on her mat to face me.

And after a couple more seconds, the blue alien finally begun to open her eyes, rubbing at her face, obviously still a bit groggy. But I let out a sigh of relief nonetheless, as I wouldn't have to resort to using a cliché, like a bucket of water, or something stupider, to wake her up. I mean, the ship was so scummy that just _looking_ at the water on it would probably give you botulism. And, on the bright side, at least _someone_ here slept easy on this frigate. Though you think the blue and navy hardsuit hugging her body would have made it hard to. Sleeping with my gear on was always a pain in the ass for me back in boot camp-

"Who...what's going on-"

"Liara please tell me you're joking."

And fortunately, her quick bout of memory loss seemed to pass as soon as she realized where she was. If only mine could do the same-

"Oh, Shield, I- I apologize." Coming to, she now propped herself up off the mattress. "I was just in the middle of a dream-"

"Asari dream? Man, I swear, I learn something new every day."

"Oh...I suppose that is quite fascinating. I never really considered how unique a phenomenon that could be-"

"Anything interesting?"

Her face suddenly became troubled, and I decided to quickly drop it.

"Actually, scratch that, we don't have the time. Should probably start grabbing your stuff."

"Are...are we there yet?" she asked softly now, just beginning to stretch her arms, letting out another soft yawn in doing so.

"Yeah, we're actually docking just now," I replied, discretely pulling at my backside in turn, just realizing my new suit was riding my crack pretty aggressively. Probably should have chosen one of the other's now that I think about it. Suit was a little on the small side. And then her eyes widened when she saw it. My suit that is.

"Is...isn't that the captain's-"

"Why yes, yes it is. But, uh, he and his crew were, uh, _generous_ enough to loan us some of their equipment. As an apology for their poor service," I was quick to finish before finally jerking my thumb at the three jabronies omni-cuffed to each other in the room behind me. "I don't think he'll miss it."

"What-"

"Well, long story short," I replied in response to my wide-eyed friend, "the two turians over there informed us about some of their hidden fees right before we got into the system. Aaaand since that seemed a little shady, we decided to go to the captain about it. And then our four-eyed friend over there was all like 'well if you don't like the offer, then you can just pay us with blood instead.' Or something incredibly cheesy like that. I don't really remember. All I do is...it was just really bad. I think he got the line from a Blasto movie. Anyway, it was then at that point we realized that they had stolen all of our stuff while we were sleeping too. Which _wasn't_ my fault by the way. I don't want to play the blame game here but _someone_ apparently fell asleep during their shift. Ah, regardless, at that point, it was kind of like...if we didn't do something about their poor behavior, _we_ would have been the assholes here? So, we decided to take our stuff back. And then some of theirs. Which worked out pretty well because I was really worried about not having any armor when we left the Citadel. Haha, because Liara, you could get nailed in the head here as soon as you set foot on the station. This is not the place you want to be walking around without any kind of protection- Oh. Ew. Probably should have cleaned this now that I think about it-"

"I thought you were supposed to be waking her up, not putting her back to sleep."

My short recap of events came to a halt as soon as we heard the smooth voice of our ace pilot.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. You're hilarious," I replied to our friendly neighborhood turian deciding to just join in.

"I just finished docking," he quickly added, pulling at his armor's collar as he did. "The good captain already paid in advance so we should be fine leaving the ship here for now." Then he gave a good hard look at the both of us. "But are you both sure you want to do this? I know we came all this way together but...after looking out the door...I've heard a lot of things about this place. None of it reassuring. If either of you want to stay on the ship-"

While he was clearly joshing us, as no sentient creature would spend days in transit aboard this junker only to sit inside it for several more, Liara replied quite serious.

"If you don't recall Vakarian, I called you to help _me_. I will not be staying aboard this ship. I came all this way to help her. I'm not staying here. Not now."

"Then you'll probably need this," Garrus said with a smirk, tossing her a Kessler. "Omega's not a place you want to be caught empty-handed."

* * *

 **Dock Z-3A, Zeta District, OMEGA**

* * *

I found that the foul stench of poverty saturated Omega's air as I exited our space craft, my nose immediately assaulted by a large bouquet of smells and odors better left unidentified. Upon exiting the dockyard, I found that the culprit was the large heaps of alien refuse lining the streets, which were only occasionally interrupted by a destitute storefront or some wandering vagrant, the bright neon lights of stores nearby doing little to improve the station's ambience. Even the sights off the vista to my left, where the inner bowels of Omega and its sky fare lay bare for all to see, left a lot to be desired.

As someone once put it...Omega. What a pisshole.

Now, 'Shield,' you might ask, 'how the hell did you end up on Omega? Why are you on Omega? And why is Liara and Garrus with you? What have you been up to in general since boot camp, homeslice?!'

And to that I say...did you not just read the last chapter butt face?! What am I even writing this all for man? Go on. Do it. I'll wait.

Oh.

You already did? I'm just putting words in your mouth? When I assume...I make an ass out of u and me? Oh. You right. My bad dawg. Okay then.

So... I guess I can start from a couple days ago then, where I had just been sitting in on my very first AIS Orientation at the Citadel. Our class was being held in a quaint little room not too far away from the Embassy offices on the Presidium, and along with me, were several other cherries in the class who I had become acquainted with over the beginning of the week, as we were all sharing the same dormitory for the duration of our 'training'.

Oh, sorry, I'm getting off topic. Anyhoo, we were only about an hour into the class when my omni-tool starts ringing all of a sudden. In fact, I had almost ignored the call, immediately telling my tool to run silent as every pair of eyes in the room suddenly rounded on me, before my instructor herself told me to get the hell out of her class and get my shit together before I come back in. And her language was a _little_ harsher than that but I don't want to offend anyone here. Anyway, I actually ended up quite thankful for the punishment because it gave me time to double-check who exactly had just called. And I came to realize that it was, guess who, Liara of all people calling me.

Oh right. I already mentioned that last chapter didn't I?

Moving on, though she didn't say much, in fact, nothing at all, I already knew what the reason for the call was at that time. Even though Liara said she could only tell me what her impromptu call was about in person... it was pretty obvious what it was about. I mean, to be fair, there was a 50/50 chance that she just wanted to say hey whaddup, but... in my heart of hearts, I knew.

So, deciding to leave the point of no return, I skipped class the next day to meet her, probably earning me a desertion, but you know...yolo. And upon arriving at the café she mentioned she wanted to meet at, guess who I found to my surprise in her place...yeah, okay you get it. It was Garrus. Which was a pleasant surprise. We had some beers, shared a few words, caught up a little bit, told me about how he ended up rejoining C-Sec in order to qualify for Spectre training, but due to the damage done by Saren, had his training postponed and was helping around with the Citadel's reconstruction instead. And I told him about me joining the Alliance, and how military life was treating me, and blah blah blah. But we quickly realized halfway through that we knew just as much as the other about why we were here. At the café I mean. Which was nothing at all. And it was only after another hour that the good doctor finally decided to show up herself. Kind of annoying, but I guess that did make the answer we finally got all the more satisfying.

It was an anonymous tip. A call so short she almost believed it didn't happen. Or so she said. But nonetheless, Liara had tried to contact as many people as she could. Unfortunately, Wrex was currently quarantining himself on a planet where he'd be lucky enough to have potable water, let alone landlines. Tali was apparently aboard a ship so far out in the outer rim that they didn't have comm buoys available. And those in the Alliance she had contacted...had simply never replied. But you think they would have when she said that Shepard was still alive.

Gasp.

Which was a shocker. To Garrus that is. I knew that she was dead, contrary to what Liara said. She had sounded so riveted, so adamant that Shepard was alive and well and needed our help that I had almost doubted myself. Almost. But I knew better. I knew the plot of ME2. And matter of fact...I saw it happen. I saw her die with my own two eyes. And if Shepard was still alive, you think she would be out and about right now, kicking ass and taking names, not kept locked up like some damsel in distress somewhere out in Terminus Space. That'd be stupid. But then again...

A little part of me hoped I was wrong. As I'm sure everyone did. About Shepard being dead. And that was what this was all about right? Why Garrus and I had left our posts, neglecting our duties to come out here on a dime? That anything was possible in this galaxy thanks to yours truly, that the Lazarus Project might not even be needed as her contact didn't actually say anything definitive? Though...we all know what happens when you assume-

The sound of immediate gunfire erupted over the bustling street we were on, as shouts and screams began to fill the air, and Garrus immediately rounded on the source, drawing his handgun in anticipation that the perpetrators were coming our way. I quickly followed his lead, pointing my barrel down the Omega fairway, but the taxi driver Liara had just hailed and been conversing with only laughed in response.

"You all must be new here huh?" the greenish-yellow Drell continued to chuckle, now leaning out the window of his sky car. "Better be careful. You two aren't gonna last long out here if you whip out your pieces at every little pop around the corner."

And his dismissive behavior seemed to be par for the course, as every other person walking the streets had about the same reaction, going on about their business without a care in the world as if the gunfire and shouts continuing somewhere further up the block were just another part of Omega's delightful ambience.

"A gunfight happens in broad daylight and no one's bats an eye?" Garrus could only manage, clearly disturbed.

"Welcome to Omega man," the driver replied in a familiar tone, as the gunshots and screams of dying gangsters seemed to get a little louder. "Heard you need a ride. Where can I take ya?"

"Are you familiar with a place called Afterlife?" Liara quickly asked him, nervously glancing back at the commotion seemingly just around the block.

"Aria's place? Yeah, who isn't? Hop on in, I can get you there-"

Which is when I actually looked at our fare driver for the first time.

"Oh shit, long time no see Feron! How've you been?"

"Wha-"

"Feron?"

"Do you know each other?"

"Uh-"

"THERE THEY ARE!"

And of course, the ones responsible for shouting at the top of their lungs was a gaggle of Blue Suns mercenaries, who were already roaring around the block, guns blazing, firing across the corridor full of people, not caring who they hit, making it quite unclear who they were exactly after-

"GET THOSE THREE OVER THERE!"

-though that cleared it up a little.

"Damn it!" the drell rasped as his car became peppered by bullets, several rounds actually finding their way through his windshield.

Garrus was the first to return fire, nailing the blue-clad merc leading the rest down the road straight between the eyes. No shields, I immediately noted, which would make this a lot easier. I quickly followed his lead, unholstering my own gun and nailing another mercenary pretty close behind. The ones still coming down the street took their cue to get down as Garrus then switched to suppressive fire, sending them scattering about for cover like the rest of the people on the street. If Omega's citizens knew one thing, it was surely how to keep their heads down and out of trouble. Like our getaway driver had just said, things like this were nothing special on Omega. Apparently. And speaking of our getaway driver-

I wrenched the taxi door open, kicked Liara in, and dove into the sky car after her.

"Garrus, come on!"

"What are you trying to do to me?!" our drell crowed as he immediately veered the vehicle away from the street's overlook, with Garrus quickly pivoting and grabbing the door just at the last second. He then hoisted himself inside the vehicle as it began to rise, with the turian landing atop the drell as the car peeled away from the street's vista.

"Get off me-"

"Shut up and drive!" I yelled as I buckled in, cutting off our driver as several more rounds lit up our car.

And without another moment to spare, our ride ripped away from the scene, quickly putting distance between us and the hit squad that had just tried to take us out. Gunfire could still be heard behind, though it seemed to be no longer directed at us. But as our ride started weaving in and out of traffic, my attention instead returned to our driver.

"What in Enkindlers' name did you guys do to piss those guys off-"

"Who the hell were they?" Garrus cut him off, still ramped up from the close encounter.

"You're really not from around here are you?" the drell was quick to reply, turning his attention back to the road. Or skyway. Whatever. "Those were the Blue Suns. A crime syndicate that masquerades as a mercenary outfit. Piracy, racketeering, sentient trafficking, red sand- they do it all. So, like I said...what the hell did you all do to piss them off-"

"Those were the Blue Suns huh," Garrus muttered, now turning toward the backseat, which coincidentally, was where I happened to be.

"Told ya."

"That was the organization you mentioned before, wasn't it?" Liara added.

"Yeah," I replied, swiping at my nose. "And since we know the Blue Suns ARE involved in this thing after all... the question now is... where are they keeping Shepard? Isn't that right...Feron!"

That remark only caused the drell to narrow his eyes at me thru his rear-view mirror, reply noticeably absent.

"You said that name before," Liara remarked next. "Do you know this man? Is he the contact you told us about earlier Shield?"

"What? I thought he was yours," I replied, slightly confused. Because 'my' contact didn't exist. I only knew what I currently did about the situation from that rushed cash grab of a comic book about this entire affair. Which of course, had Feron as the one who contacted Liara in the first place. If he wasn't the one-

"No, mine went by the name of Sirona," Liara replied, answering my question. "And I don't think they were male."

"But you know this man Shield?" Garrus asked.

Maybe not-

"Hold on a minute," the drell suddenly chimed in, apparently just deciding on what angle to pursue, all the while still weaving in and out of traffic at a quite dangerous, if not downright irresponsible, speed. "Before there's any more confusion, I want to say that you have most definitely me confused for someone else. I know drell are pretty rare out here but-"

"Your name isn't Feron?" Liara asked, confused.

"Uh, well...it is. But me and him-" The drell made a gesture between the two of us. "-have definitely never met before. I can promise that you have me confused for someone else," he finished, clearly scoping me out from his mirror.

And I decided to throw him a bone. As he was at least being honest with us so far.

"That's true. I don't _think_ we've ever met before." Which may be or may not be true. Still had that amnesia thing going on about what this body did before 2183 CE. But then a smirk crept across my arrogant face as I decided to drop a heavy payload of what I call information on him. Something I hadn't done in quite a while.

"But that doesn't mean I don't recognize you," I deigned to reply. "I always know an agent of the Shadow Broker when I see one."

And for a secret agent, Feron had a hella easy tell. You could see I was right on the money just from the look on his goofy lizard face. And I honestly can't tell you how long I've been waiting to spook someone like that again. When you talk about things you couldn't possibly ever know about, tell someone their life story even though they never even shared it in the first place...it really does give you the greatest power trip. If you enjoy that sick kind of stuff, that is.

"What the hell are you talking about-"

"Didn't the Shadow Broker order you to lead us away from Shepard's body, so they had time to ship it off station...or something or other? Was a little fuzzy on the details."

"Oh?" Garrus let loose, now eyeing our driver, turning the gun in his lap toward Feron's direction.

"I don't-"

"He has access to your boss' network," Garrus clarified for Feron, despite it (technically) being a bold-faced lie. Not that anyone besides myself (and maybe the Broker himself) knew that. "So, I'd choose your next words very carefully."

"You pull that trigger and they'll be cleaning our wreckage out of the streets for weeks," Feron coldly replied.

Well that didn't go well.

"Okay, I think things are getting a little out of hand," I cut in, realizing our resident maverick wasn't helping things. "Garrus, you gotta put away the gun. We're all on the same side here...right Feron?"

"I don't know," the drell stated coy, "Are we?"

"...are you for real?"

A dark, indigo aura suddenly began to emanate beside me, and its light began to illuminate the interior of the car.

"You'll tell us where you're holding Shepard. Or-"

"Or what? You'll-"

"Guys, can we not?" I had to stop and massage my temple from how needless this was, as we were just wasting time at this point.

"Shield, if he knows where Shepard is then-"

"He doesn't know Liara, he- you know what? This is stupid. I'm just gonna go ahead and put it all out there. Feron, look, the rumor about the Collectors are real."

"...what?"

"We're-"

And it was at that point my skull suddenly slammed into Liara's, Garrus' gun went flying out of his hand, and the pressure inside the car suddenly dropped as it was knocked out of its lane, slamming hard into the wall of the tunnel we were traveling through.

"OW!"

"What the-"

And Feron's expletive was quickly cut off as our vehicle was rammed again, causing our heads to snap against the doors this time, its windows shattering across its dark leather interior, glass shards sent flying everywhere, and the car itself began spiraling out of control as it exited the dark traffic tunnel. And now that the 'sky' was once again illuminated by Omega's artificial lights, I could just barely make out the shape of the large vehicle currently hounding us. Despite our continued spin out of control.

A sudden jerk upward was the only thing that prevented us from colliding with the billboard below, our car just barely skimming off its top by meters, any lower and our wild chase scene would have ended right there.

"He's out!"

"He's what?!" Liara was first to respond.

"The driver!"

"Oh shit," I could only croak, watching Garrus clamor to get the bloodied drell out of the driver's seat, hoisting his body upward and over himself, before the car was suddenly buffeted again, causing the two figures to become tangled together.

And it was at that point you could feel the car to begin its dive downward once again, only this time, its descent was much faster, and angled much steeper, and pointed toward the ground.

"Shield, grab the wheel!"

"I don't know how to drive!" I replied as I tried to get out of my seat, my buckle not responding. "And I'm stuck!"

"What?!"

"Liara, you do it!"

"What?!"

"I'm going!"

"Oh geez, they're coming in hot!"

"What?!"

"Oh Goddess-"

Her words subsequently cut out as she somersaulted into the front of the car, our vehicle rammed right as she was leaving her seat, and our ride then decided to veer left and violently careen off the side of the large installation just momentarily in our way, giving whiplash to every involved.

"Who the hell put that sign there?!" I shouted, gripping my seat and neck, mighty glad I had buckled in before-hand.

"Hmph!" Garrus grunted, finally orienting himself and throwing the drell driver off him, and into the back with me. He then wasted no time in grabbing the wedged gun in between the dashboard and leaned out the busted window to his left, immediately open firing on the other sky car speeding up behind us.

"Shield!"

Oh right.

"On it!"

I quickly followed suit, pushing Feron aside, clearing out the remaining glass of the window with my gun, and leaned out to give the bastards-

"Truck!"

"What?!" we both barely managed to say, turning around to-

"TRUCK!"

We had a moment to blink before the vehicle completely knocked us out of the sky, everything a blur as objects moved too fast for our eyes to observe, stomachs roiling as our car careened out of control, the g's of the turns unbearable, making it hard to even remain conscious, right up until the point we crashed straight through an apartment complex and came to a stop.

* * *

 **Alliance News Network Daily Broadcast**

"Hello and welcome to the the Alliance News Network's _Galactic Report_ , broadcasting to our viewers throughout Arcturus and Alliance Space! I'm Ruxius Rilius of the Arcturus Stream-"

"..."

"...And this is where you introduce yourself son. Don't be shy."

"..."

"...And with me tonight is my special co-host, Bleepo. Bleepo, why don't you say hello to the good people of Arcturus."

"..."

"...Mm. And tonight, we bring you breaking coverage of the conflict that recently erupted in the Valhallan Threshold. Within the obscure star system of Paz, is the Terminus Systems world known as Garvug, a planet of little note. Until now."

"..."

"Uh...one of the original 'bargain worlds' first gifted to the Krogan by the Citadel Council in 354 CE for their part in the Rachni Wars, Garvug was once a thriving garden world, possessing a large, workable farm belt with rich soil and large oceans reported to once contain a diverse marine ecosystem. This all however quickly changed due to Krogan overpopulation, and within several generations of over-fishing, chemical run-off and heavy pollution, Garvug was soon reduced to a frozen wasteland. Your turn Bleebo."

"..."

"...Few would think that this barren world possessing a population of 40% krogan and 30% vorcha and divest of any natural resources would be of interest to anyone, but several conglomerates seem to think otherwise."

"..."

"...Calling the rapid decline Garvug's ruined ecosystem and flora an ecological genocide, eco-engineering firms like Binary Helix and Guanghui Solutions declared to seek immediate license to repair the balance of Garvug's nature at any cost. They are also joined by mining firms like Sonax Industries who comment that the state-protected iridium deposits are often allowed access by pirates, and wish to stem the new tide of budding piracy in the region."

"..."

"After their initial statement Thursday, corporate armies, many of them sponsored by these companies mentioned, and based in Citadel space, have finally crossed the line, backing a coup of the krogan clan-based government in exchange for unfettered access to the planet last night."

"..."

"Upon their march, Garvug's government took the immediate response of bombing their capital's main streets, cutting off these corporate armies from their supply chains and entirely stopping them in their tracks. This has led the attempted coup of the Hailot Clan to turn into protracted fighting throughout the capital of Dhazil, with the state's army slowly gaining the upper hand over the corporate-sponsored rebels as Krogan reinforcements continue to trickle in."

"..."

"We will continue to keep you updated on this gripping development as it further progresses throughout the week. I'm Ruxius Rilius."

"..."

"...And this is Bleedo, who was able to co-host this segment of _Galactic Report_ with me thanks to the concerted efforts of the _Foundation for Adoption of Rare Telekinetics Incorporated_ _,_ a charity based organization who works to integrate children solely orphaned after exposure to eezo into new families. If you are currently considering adoption, consider _FART Inc_. today. And we'll be back shortly after these messages."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Well. I thought I might have said in the last AN that I'd release the next chapter of this story around June or July. Maybe August-ish at the latest if I was feeling _really_ lazy. It is now late September. So...mistakes were made. Then I was going to say that I actually meant Chapter 4 would could out the June of NEXT YEAR. And then you'd be like 'oh wow! Stache released another chapter a whole year earlier than planned! Stache is amazing! He's so cool and thoughtful. He really cares~'. But then I checked again and saw that there was no such statement or promise ever made. So I owe you all nothing. So disregard this entire paragraph.

Anywayyyy, I sincerely apologize to those of you still following Shield's antics, and that it took me so long to get this thing out. Still not entirely pleased with the result (at all), but uh, I'm gonna power through it. Stuff should really ramp up next chapter though, and hopefully you'll enjoy the result of it as much as I will. Or I hope I will. I suppose we can only really hope that this update isn't the last gasp of an author's waning ability to write about a franchise long since out of vogue. God help us if that were the case. In any case, see you in October!*

* * *

 **Next time on Mass Effective: A Hero Lost!**

A specter long thought dead returns, and who it is might surprise you! And once Shield sees them, you'll never guess what happens next! ~~Click here to find out why~~


	5. You Only Live Once

**December 13th, 2183 CE**

 **Behind Harrot's Emporium, Tuhi District, Omega**

If I knew running around with a little green man on your back was this hard, I don't think I'd be as jealous of Luke Skywalker as I had been as a kid-

"Ugh, I thought drell were supposed to be light-"

"You thought wrong," my backpack immediately quipped.

"How much farther do we have to go?" Liara broke in behind me.

"Quiet."

I let out a quick grunt as I planted my feet into the ground, skidding to a stop just before I collided into Garrus, currently holding his claw up in the alleyway. Which alerted us all to shut up. We immediately tensed as several people clad in maroon armor then jogged by, clearly looking for a certain group of fugitives in particular. And after waiting several more seconds, Garrus took a glance around the corner, and liking what he saw, motioned for us to start moving again.

Leaving the backlit alleyway, the drell on my back then bade us right one more time, past one more back street, through one last deserted boulevard and then pointed over my shoulder, across the final thoroughfare, when our destination finally came within sight.

* * *

 **Afterlife, Omega**

* * *

"We're here," Feron muttered, finally getting off my back and propping himself up against a wall, wincing noticeably as he did. "Though we would have gotten here a lot sooner if we hadn't made all those stops."

"Those people needed our help," Garrus responded coldly.

"If you stop for every person getting mugged on Omega, you'd never round a block. Speaking of which," Feron continued, "Going to Hobar for the info we wanted would have been a lot easier too. And he would have been a lot more discrete-"

"I'm not trusting anything that comes out the mouth of someone called 'The Beggar King', alright?" I replied now. "We're here, so let's just get this over with."

"I really don't know why you're so insistent on Aria," Feron sighed. "But just let me do the talking, alright?" Feron then hobbled out onto the street before he heard my response, intent on finishing the last stretch of our journey. "She tends to be pretty moody this early in the morning."

"No promises," I muttered as we followed the limping drell towards the back entrance of the huge, crimson-lit compound towering above us.

When Feron had made the suggestion earlier, I had vetoed it immediately. Even if 'The Beggar King' had been closer to that run-down apartment complex we had crashed into... I wasn't going to risk another information broker when I already knew the Queen of Omega had what we wanted. After the setback we experienced as soon as we had gotten here, I wasn't particularly inclined to waste any more time chasing false leads. The Blue Suns had surely seen to that. And... I also had my own business with the Crime queen of Omega. Business other than what was already on hand. And I wasn't going to miss this opportunity.

* * *

Jesse Allen - Lo Fi Epic (Techno Madness Mix) [Google it if you just want to experience the BEST TECHNO SPACE music the galaxy has to offer]

* * *

After a few words with the bouncer, the drell had us inside, and the familiar thumping bass of the club immediately washed out the noise of the street behind us, springing the vibrant scene of Aria's domain to life. Past the VIP booths of Omega's drunken elite, who gave us little notice save for the lone, timid-looking asari in our group. Past one of the club's bars, where a grizzled batarian barkeep eyed me alone with particular disgust. Past the dance floor where Garrus had to knock away several blue hands that came a little too close for his liking. And in a sound-proofed room, down a final hallway on the right, further inside the deep bowels of the club was where Feron and his batarian guide eventually had us stop.

Our drell immediately plopped himself down on a crimson couch in exhaustion, just the short trek in having taken its toll on him. It was then that Garrus noticed his leg had started bleeding again, and tossed him a fresh pack of medi-gel, which Feron applied liberally.

In the aftermath of our crash, I had been the one to discover Feron's leg had been smashed by the car's metal frame bad. Real bad. But with the Blue Suns still hot on our tail, we hadn't really had the time to assess the damage done. As soon as I had come to, I had slung him over my shoulder and followed Liara and Garrus as we booked it away from the wreck. We had been able to hunker down in one of the abandoned apartment's nearby rooms without trouble, before any of the Blue Suns had found us, but-

"Aria! Long time no see!"

The name immediately had my attention return to the situation at hand, and my eyes turn toward the doorway, as the Crime boss of Omega now entered the room, two large guards right at her back.

"Feron."

I began to open my mouth before our drell immediately noticed my intentions, giving me a sharp shake of his head.

"How've you been?" he then continued, as Aria motioned for her bodyguards to wait outside.

"Better than you by the looks of it," the asari crimelord dead-panned as she glanced at his leg, before haphazardly plopping back onto the couch across from us, her chilly grey eyes glancing in our direction for only a moment, entirely uninterested. "It isn't often the Shadow Broker sends one of his minions to ME for help. Something lucrative I hope."

"Just checking on some merchandise Aria...one Commander Shepard."

The atmosphere quickly changed at her mention.

"I know the Blue Suns are set to deliver her to the Shadow Broker. I need to know where."

"You don't?" That had a smirk quickly creep across the asari's face. "I knew the Broker liked secrecy, but for his own men not to know what he's up to-"

"Can you help us or not," Garrus impatiently cut in.

Her attention now turned to our turian, completely unamused. "And you must be the members of Shepard's crew. The ones who hijacked Captain Jardak's ship. After he so graciously gave you a ride too. You should count yourselves lucky you only stole his clothes, and not the shipment he had for me."

"A shipment? That ship came straight here from the Citadel. If you're smuggling anything onto the Citadel, don't think-"

"Garrus. Enough." How abruptly I had cut him off must have surprised him, as he looked toward me in disbelief. But he wasn't looking at the bigger picture. "Don't forget why we're here."

But the reminder had been enough, as the turian quickly grimaced upon realizing the stakes at hand, and thankfully relented on the subject, though I'm sure he wouldn't forget about it.

We were here for _Shepard._ Not Aria's gun running.

"They don't know how it works here Aria," Feron piped up. "Please, forgive them for their-"

"It doesn't matter," Aria immediately dismissed him. "Jardak wasn't supposed to be moonlighting as a luxury cruiser in the first place. If he had followed instructions, it wouldn't have happened."

"I'm sure they're thankful your leniency," he said, glancing in our direction. "Now, about Shepard-"

"Yes, I know where her body's being kept."

"Body?" Liara absent-mindedly let slip.

"Hmph. I hope you didn't think that she was still alive," Aria immediately clarified for Liara, reasserting what I already knew, and probably destroying what little hope for happiness Liara still had.

This wasn't a rescue mission after all.

"At least for her sake. From what I had heard, Commander Shepard was last seen inside a box launched into the cold void of Citadel Space. It would have been uncharacteristically cruel of the Council had she still been alive for that, don't you think?" Aria folded a leg atop her other as she shifted in her seat. "I believe the Blue Suns actually grabbed it not days after their secret ceremony, corpse and all, if I'm not mistaken."

"So that's it then," Garrus reiterated, truth already sinking in.

"I'd have _thought_ her crew, of all people, would know better than anyone that Shepard has long since passed from this galaxy."

"The details we had on the matter were scarce," I replied.

"So... can you tell us where they're keeping it?" Feron asked again, obviously growing peeved by all our interruptions.

"I could," Aria began. "...but then again...the Blue Suns are offering quite a large sum for your friends here." Our group immediately froze in place, and my hand immediately moved to my hidden gun with the news. I assume Liara and Garrus were doing the same. She should have checked us for guns if she was going to snitch. "Which makes sense on why the Broker cut you out of his dealings too, Feron."

Unlike us however, Feron remained stoic, clearly undaunted by her threat.

"You haven't turned us in to the Suns yet. So what's your game?"

A smirk then crossed Aria's face as she heard his question.

"I'll be honest with you Feron, I never liked you... but I never did take you for an idiot. People who cross the Broker aren't long for this world. Whatever you betrayed him for must have been quite serious..." She let her words hang in the air, letting the current circumstance of our predicament sink in. "...I could turn the other way. Just this once. If you give me something in return."

"And what's that?" the drell asked.

"Why IS the Broker so interested in Shepard?"

"I...I don't know. That's what we're trying find-"

"Bullshit," she immediately rebuffed him. "Of course you know. Why else would you care about the Broker's interest over a corpse? And if you want to find it, you'll tell me."

"Because the Shadow Broker is working with the Collectors," Liara was the next to say, coming straight out the gate, to Feron's aghast. "They're the ones that really want Shepard! But if she's dead-"

"The Collectors?!" Aria's mood immediately soured. If you were a fan of the comically understated that is. "Get out! All of you!"

"Wait, we just told you what you wanted-"

"I don't care! You're no longer welcome in Afterlife. Anto! Get these assholes-"

"You came across the Collectors recently, didn't you?"

Aria immediately rounded on me, and her look elicited horror. The nightmarish, lovecraftian bodies of the Keepers were barely more chilling then Aria's murderous gaze. But as she said naught a word, I quickly continued, not wanting to lose my chance.

"And when you did, you saw them buying humans from the Blue Suns...didn't you? As well as information on several Alliance colonies."

I hadn't been sure when the events of Mass Effect Incursion took place. But after seeing her reaction to Liara just now, I assumed her run-in with the Collectors had already come and gone. And as I waited for a response, she deemed to give her flunky one instead.

"Anto. I think this one will be our guest for a little while longer. Get the rest of them out."

Garrus quickly drew the gun he had been fingering as Anto pointed his pistol at my head, Liara immediately glowing blue in anticipation of a fight as Aria's other goons brought out their pieces. Only Aria, Feron...and myself I suppose, sat where we were, unbothered by the current standoff.

"There's no need for violence," Feron spoke first, being the voice of reason.

Though I appreciated his calm, I wasn't done yet.

"Do you want to know where I learned that from Aria?" I spoke loudly. "Because I'd be willing to tell you right now. And just for your peace of mind, it wasn't from a leak within Afterlife."

"Oh? Then would you be so kind as to share?" she followed up with an unnecessary amount of sarcasm.

"Well, as I recently explained to Feron... I was once with the Network too. And the Broker has eyes everywhere. Your club's no exception. You should scan for breaches in your security if you ever want to change that."

I don't know if that was actually true but... showmanship goes a long way. And knowing the Shadow Broker's reach throughout the Galaxy, it probably was anyway.

"But...," I continued, "that was back before I learned that the Broker was working with the Collectors. And like you, I know they're bad news. They're sick slavers, have tech way beyond what they should, and my intel tells me they're planning to expand their operations throughout the Terminus Systems. Including Omega. Which I'm sure concerns you."

The crimson light of our room cast a shadow across the asari's face as she shifted in her seat again.

"...this is our chance to deal a huge blow to those bug-eyed freaks before they go on the offensive, Aria. If you help us now, and I promise you this...we can get rid of the Collector problem before it ever becomes one-"

"And pray tell, how in the world would telling you where a corpse is, do that?"

"Because...it's the corpse of Commander Shepard. The Savior of the Citadel and humanity's first Spectre. And they want it. Isn't that a good enough reason for them NOT to have it?"

My reasoning didn't seem to stick well, as she continued staring at me with great displeasure, eyes furrowed deeply, probably infuriated that she was having to deal with this stupid shit at all. But no sooner had I finished did she tsk reluctantly, rolling her eyes, and opened her dark blue lips to speak.

"...the lower levels of Omega. In the old mining processing plant. Shaft Deran. The Blue Suns were setting up there." She then motioned to Anto. "This meeting is over."

With that, Anto put away his weapon, and Garrus and Liara did the same, with Feron letting out a loud sigh, probably thankful that we hadn't poked the bear any more than we needed to-

"Actually, before we go..."

"Shield-"

"I need to warn you about one more thing."

"What the hell are you doing?" Feron hissed beside me.

"And what's that?" Aria asked now. "Because I already know there's not a single person on Omega who wouldn't like to take my place as top bitch on this rock. So don't waste my time-"

"It's not you they're after. It's your daughter." And like that, I had definitely pushed my luck too far as Aria's attitude quickly changed again with the mention of her kid. "Cerberus. The terrorist group. Ever heard of them?"

"I have," she coldly replied.

"Yeah, well, your daughter, Liselle... she's in danger. They're planning to go after her."

"What are you talking about."

"Cerberus wants to use her to get to you, and hook its claws into Omega. It's a new initiative to expand their influence in the Terminus systems."

"And how do you know this?" she replied in a grave tone.

"...Because I've heard about the situation from a friend in the Alliance. And the Broker had been keeping tabs on it too," I quickly spun off the top of my head. "But there's an easy way to stop them. How you can flip the tables on them instead. There's this guy...a man by the name of Paul Grayson. Though I think he's currently going by the name of Paul Johnson. But that doesn't really matter. The fact that he used to work for Cerberus does. Before he deserted and went on the run that is. And I've heard he's headed here, of all places. If you take him under your wing, he'll be able to give you information on Cerberus, and its information that won't allow them to do anything without dire repercussions. With just one person, you could keep Cerberus from even thinking about making moves against you or Omega ever again."

"And why would you tell me this? What exactly is your stake in all this?" she asked clearly incredulous.

"Because Paul's also a friend of mine. And I think Omega is a lot better off in your hands than in Cerberus'. Those guys are all dicks."

In truth, it was more because the events of Mass Effect Retribution had horrible ramifications. And this was the only thing I could think of to prevent them from happening. I don't know where Grayson currently is. Just that he'll eventually come here. By getting you to protect Paul Grayson, Aria, he'll never be abducted by Cerberus, become indoctrinated, and die under the control of the Reapers. And the Illusive Man won't be able to further his research into their tech and indoctrination. Which would hopefully help stop him from becoming an gigantic asshole in 2186 too. And most important of all, I'll also get in on your good side for saving your daughter's life when we see each other next. But that all depends on-

Aria glanced at Anto before frowning.

"I'll check into it. Now get out."

Eyyyyy~

* * *

As we filed out of the bumpin' club, everyone seemed to be on task for what we needed to do next. Taking our first steps back out onto the cold streets of Omega, where enemies were possibly waiting everywhere, we were now finally on the right track to getting Shepard back-

"What the hell went on in there?"

Though I suppose some were still lost on what exactly had just happened.

"We learned where the Blue Suns are keeping Shepard. That's what."

"Don't play dumb with me," Feron snapped. "I thought we were supposed to be working together on this. But then you spring up the fact that Aria actually met the Collectors herself? And that Cerberus is after her daughter?! Is that true?"

I hailed a taxi as I quickly walked toward Afterlife's vista, as I had _assumed_ we had all wanted to get out of the area as soon as possible, in case the Blue Suns were still lurking around.

"Uh, yeah. That's right. But deciding to work for them was your mistake. You can't trade one evil organization for another, hoping that the next one might be just a tad better than the last Feron. If you didn't know...you should never trust Cerberus."

"I didn't exactly have a choice," the drell muttered.

"He's right though Shield," Garrus suddenly whispered to me, keeping a sharp eye on Feron as he pulled me aside. "He has a point. You didn't tell any of us about what you had planned on saying in there."

"I'm sorry about that, but I was going to tell Aria about that regardless of your opinions. It's something she needed to hear. Would have telling you beforehand have changed that? And c'mon Garrus. Give me the benefit of the doubt here...when did I even have time to mention it? Back in the apartment? The Blue Suns crashed our party before it even began."

"...fair enough," he relented. Then after a short pause, he asked,"But...can we trust him?"

A talon was gestured at the drell off to the side, currently tapping away on his omni-tool.

"We had to hold him against the wall to get him to admit he worked for the Broker. And how reluctant he was to tell us about Cerberus..."

"Then trust _me_ , Garrus. Those were his only secrets."

"Shield, I've seen a lot of cases during my time in the Wards. And everyone has their tells. He's still hiding something."

"You're too paranoid man," I could only reply, as he was starting to spook me. If Feron couldn't be trusted, and he was a pretty sneaky guy...then who else did we have to help us? "Hell, I still remember when you suspected me of the exact same thing."

"And I was right, wasn't I?"

It was at that point an automated sky car saddled up beside the overlook, and I made a motion toward it.

"C'mon Garrus. You know I've tried to be as upfront about everything as possible. But when you read a lot of information, it's hard to tell what's important and what's not, you know?"

"You seem to do pretty well at it."

I glanced at Liara who was still disturbingly quiet, only taking her eyes off the ground and entering the car after I prodded her. Which of course, I then followed her into.

"Look, Garrus, I told you before we left the Citadel that I asked around about the situation, and that I learned the Collectors were the ones who wanted Shepard, didn't I? And that the Shadow Broker and Blue Suns were just their middle men? That's all true."

"Did you know Shepard was dead before we got here?"

Feron noticed Garrus enter the car after me, and soon followed suit, joining us inside.

"I...had a suspicion. But I wasn't sure. I was honestly hoping she was still alive. But the rest of the information I gave Aria was just stuff I learned while I was looking into the Collectors. Didn't plan on bringing it up until she was about to kick us out. The only other thing I didn't tell you or Feron here when we were pooling our info after the crash..."

"Is?" Garrus asked, clearly crossed.

I sighed.

Might as well tell them now since we'll have to deal with it eventually.

"-was that Cerberus isn't looking to stop the Collector's deal from going through. They want the body too."

"What?!" Feron replied, absolutely shocked. "They didn't tell me that! Why?"

"That's the question. If Shepard's really dead...why _would_ anyone want her body?" Garrus now puzzled as the sky car finally took off the ground. "It doesn't make any sense."

"I don't know about the Collectors. But..." I had to sigh, as I was spoiling a pretty big surprise. "...I'm pretty sure Cerberus wants Shepard's body to bring her back to life."

"What?" Liara suddenly piped up beside me upon hearing the words, finally coming to. "Is that possible?!"

"What? No!" Feron exclaimed, stating the obvious. "That's insane. Where the hell did you hear that Shield? Who's your source for all this?"

"How many times do I have to say the Shadow Broker man?"

"I never heard any of this while doing work for the Broker. Bringing back the dead...that's science fiction Shield-"

"Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction," our worldly detective surmised. "It _sounds_ like the kind of sick stuff Cerberus would be interested in." The twisted experiments we encountered during our fights with them in the Traverse was probably still fresh in his mind. All their experiments to mind-control the rachni and thorian creepers. Testing the deadliness of thresher maws on Alliance marines. Subverting science and pushing the envelope on what was sci-fi in this galaxy was their MO.

I've heard enough about them though. I'd have me enough Cerberus to last me a lifetime over the next couple of years as is.

"Look, guys, I don't really care about the how's or why's of why people currently want Shepard's body right now, and to be frank, it doesn't even matter. What matters now is that we take out the Blue Suns in their hangar and get Shepard back. We can sort the rest all out later."

"...Agreed," Garrus replied, now messing with his gun.

"Shepard..."

"We'll see what happens when we get to the trade."

"Oh yeah. That just reminded me. There might be a guy named Tazzik overlooking the trade."

"...what?!"

* * *

 **Mining Shaft D3R-4N, Old Processing Plant, Omega**

"Yeah...yeah, that's Tazzik alright," Feron murmured as we crouched below the railing. "Shit."

Further below our scaffold, a gaggle of mercenaries paced about a small hangar originally carved into Omega years ago, or so I was told, back during its days as an Eezo mine. And the Blue Suns in it seemed antsy, alert, more so than you'd think some people guarding a hidden, out of the way facility would be. Which I attributed to the one person down there not wearing a blue hardsuit, barking orders at the rest. A dark green salarian that towered meters above the other mercs, clad in heavy black armor, and more concerningly, toting a hefty M-100.

"The Broker _would_ send Taz to oversee the pickup. This day just keeps getting better and better."

While Feron was heavily occupied with the presence of the hitman, I on the other hand, was much more interested in the pod the salarian was standing over instead. As Feron continued to rant, I opened up my omni-tool to contact Liara and Garrus.

"We have eyes on Shepard," I spoke softly into my device. "Be advised, she's being guarded by seven goons, and one heavy. Over."

"Here I was thinking this would be easy," Garrus responded over the device. "Liara and I are almost through the vents. We'll contact you when we reach the end."

"-for the rare times the Shadow Broker wants something – or someone – taken care of!" Feron continued droning on to no one in particular. "The Blue Suns might have a lot of muscle, but Taz is the one that gets results. Results he usually gets!"

"Oh my god, shut up," I hissed back, peeping my head back over the balcony again. If he knew how many times I-

And that's when I saw it. As silent as the grave, a silver ship had already pulled into the hangar without a sound, apparently having landed at the heart of the room while Feron had been talking to himself and I conversing with Garrus. We'd have to move fast if we wanted to intercept Shepard before they brought her on board. But until Garrus and Liara were in position, we'd have to-

"Hey! Who's up there?!"

Before I had time to even duck, something cracked itself against my face, knocking me to the floor, at which point, I felt my arms quickly pinned behind my back.

Not missing a beat, I wasted no time in shooting back up, headbutting my assailant, before a quick boot to the gut sent me over the railing behind me, and plummeting toward the hangar below.

And finding my arms cuffed behind my back, I took the full brunt of the five-meter fall in stride, gritting my teeth as I rebounded off the floor and toward the mercenaries currently pointing their guns in my direction.

"Damn, son of a bitch!" I heard Feron shout loudly above.

"Feron? Is that you? What the hell are you doing up there?!" the monstrous salarian now standing above me crowed back to the drell still up on the walkway.

"Gimme a sec," he responded as heaved himself over the railing, sliding down a pole to reach the ground. And my blood ran red as I saw the smirk on his face.

"Feron, you son of a-"

A boot quickly came down on my stomach, interrupting my insult.

"I know the plan was for me to come through the front door," Feron continued, now limping over to the group of mercenaries. "But plans change."

"Where the hell are the other two?" Tazzik grunted.

"I could have brought them with me if your goons hadn't done _this_ to me," Feron said, gesturing to his crippled leg. "Thanks to that, I was only able to bring him in."

"Last time we talked, you said they were all with you," Tazzik snarled.

"You saw what he almost just did now right? I had enough trouble with him alone," the bastard replied. "The other two are somewhere nearby though. Should be here soon enough."

"FERON! You DASTARD! You're gonna pa-"

"Shut up," the frog rasped as Tazzik brought his foot down again, causing me to wretch mid-sentence.

It was at that point the ramp of the Shadow Broker's ship began to lower, apparently ready for its delivery.

"You three, spread out. I want the others found," the salarian hit man immediately barked at several Suns. "You two, get the body onboard. And as for you," Tazzik finished, turning back to the traitor. "You'll get your pay when we get the rest."

"Fine by me," the smug lizard replied.

And then, the voice of someone entirely new addressed them both, as its owner exited their ship.

"Hmm. I hope you're not having trouble with your assignment here, Taz."

And my anger immediately disappeared upon hearing the light-hearted voice.

In fact, my mind went blank.

It was because that voice was in fact, not new.

Not new to me at all.

It was familiar.

Hauntingly so. But-

"I really hope that's not the case, as the Broker would be extremely displeased if this deal were to fall through-"

"Calm down," the freakishly large salarian retorted to the newcomer. "They're just some loose ends I need to take care of. Which I always do."

"I trust you, Taz. You on the other hand," it continued, obviously referring to Feron, "You weren't on the list."

I tried to get a look at them, to turn around and affirm what I thought, but the salarian hitman quickly just kicked at my head again, preventing me from doing so.

But I KNEW-

"Might want to check it again," Feron spoke up next. "But the Broker has _you_ in charge of making the pick-up huh?"

"The Broker has me in charge of everything these days," the off-puttingly upbeat voice replied.

After a brief pause, it then addressed the elephant in the room. Me.

"Who's that?"

I could only recall one voice from before, during my days off the Normandy, that had been so sickeningly affable.

That had ingrained itself so deeply into my memory-

Feron became real smug as the newcomer noticed me.

"Oh? I'm surprised you didn't recognize him. I wonder if he'll recognize you? Hey, do you remember your old pal Cadus here, Shield?"

"What? ...Shield?"

And as soon as Feron had kicked me over, so that I could actually face the turian they had been talking to-

The jackal across from them had already thrown back its head to howl in laughter, a twisted expression of glee plastering its face, a grotesque look that I still remembered vividly from all those months ago.

Back from when it had tortured me.

"...no way," I could only whisper.

"Feron. You just...Made. My. YEAR!" the pallid turian could only shout with childish glee, drawing its gun, its ebony tattoos only serving to further exaggerate the hideous expression currently on its face. "And here I was about to shoot you dead!"

"Thanks for not doing that," Feron replied.

The drell had just called him Cadus.

But I knew this turian by another name.

And I could only whisper it as he quickly approached me.

"Gellix?"

"Long time no see Shield!" the turian chittered.

"How-"

My vision then went dark as the butt of his gun was violently brought down across my face.

* * *

 **Alliance News Network Daily Broadcast**

"Hello and welcome to the Alliance News Network's Galactic Report, broadcasting to our viewers throughout Arcturus and Alliance Space! I'm Ruxius Rilius of the Arcturus Stream, and tonight, we have a stunning story. In recent news, a new religion is seeming to be gaining ground on Palaven, Mannovai, and even Earth itself! Calling themselves the Church of the Divine Plan, members of this institution believe that the Citadel was constructed by the Protheans as a space ark, and used to preserve life when gamma ray bursts and other lethal space weather sweeps throughout the galaxy. According to adherents, this disaster will strike 'near the end of the century' and the Citadel Council is criminally liable for refusing to import species' DNA to the space station. Also commonly known as the Dalemitrians, the highest members of its clergy have reportedly taken to spreading their gospel as far as they can, sending missionaries to even the Terminus Systems in attempts to spread the word. With me here tonight is special guest, and renowned Xenosocial Psychologist, Jimbo Crass, who can help us shed some light on why this movement is gaining so much steam in Citadel Space."

"Thanky for havin' meh Rux."

"Now, this movement seems to have almost popped up over night Jimbo. And is stunning most experts as it's demographic is equally split between salarians, turians, and humans to boot. Ideologically, these races have never seen eye to eye. In your expert opinion, what has spurred all these individuals of different backgrounds and vocations to join this new religion, and where did this 'Church of the Divine Plan' even come from?"

"Ah yeh, well, I'll tell you hwat. Rux. They most certainlay did not comeouddathinair."

"Haha, I'm sure they didn't."

"Noah, lotta people in mah field believe dat thus hair movement is larjuly reactionable, and not actually spurred on by any of da deep-seeded beleefs that they be shoutin' out on dem streets. It is believed tat da the congress of dese church-goers hurr first started meetin just ah cup ol moons ago, right aft the Baddle of da Citadel. That ain't no coincidence Rux, I'll tell you hwat."

"And why is that Jimbo?"

"Et es becawse thasse peepul are reactin' to da Get and all dese heer doomsayers lookin' at da Citadal and sayin that the social experimant of the Council has outright failed darn-tootin'. They see dat tah Get were able to addac tha Citadal, and since da Geth ain't been seen for se'ral centoories, they thank thaat thus must bee sum ill omen of thangs to kom 'round, you knoo? Wan bad thangs happan, fohlkz tend to find paddurns that aren't thar to reassure thamselves that thangs are happenin for dat reason en pardicular. Well Rux. Sometimes thangs just happan without aneh raisin."

"Mhm. I think there's certainly some truth in those words. But do you know how this movement has become so far-spread, so quickly, and how it has become so militant?"

"No-ah, we are not akshullay shure where tha ideer furst came frim. But wee doo kno dat the Citadel is of import to dese here peopah. Perhap som feller came krass sum Prothean text befoor da tack on Edan Prymme and say, I see some connectshuns thut aren't rally thare. Ima preach bout thus. And the Citadal's destrukshun may 'ave spooked e'm. But we doo nut know for shure."

"Interesting. Well, in response to the growing movement and protests, C-SEC HAS classified this religion as an apocalyptic cult, and cites their numerous weapons violations as a 'troubling sign'. The church's annual income is also estimated at nearly 900 million credits, lending to the belief that its spread won't be stopping any time soon. Thanks for joining us here today Jimbo."

"Ain't no thangchackenwang. Ah juist hawp thayarr sellerbratin' prawper iyle thay stuhl kahn, cuuz ya ayl naw r'graits urr fer duz forrchu. Espeshully sinnse teem sittadahl furhks gurn effenshally ell aff tharr waigh wiff dem."

"Haha, I completely agree Jimbo. Later...are Krogan mercenaries allergic to lemons? The truth may shock you. We'll be back after these messages."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

The day this chapter was published was November 7th, 2017, on the Tenth Anniversary of N7 Day, as well as the Tenth Anniversary of The Mass Effect Franchise itself. And I'd like to believe everyone reading this story is quite familiar with the Original Trilogy. Familiar with its story, its characters, and all the planets, missions, and inspired ideas that came along with it. When someone sees the number and letter, N7, they think, Commander Shepard. I mean...Mass Effect. It's pretty amazing. I don't think there's any argument there. And I love the series, I truly do, which is why I've been working on this story as I still am now. Which is why I urge you, current reader, still keeping up with Shield's story, to not just read fanfiction on Mass Effect, nor just visit the ME reddit, or ME tumblr, or ME wiki, or whatever other fan sites there still may be out there and that you participate in. I urge you to actually pay a visit to Bioware's Customer Feedback Service, and let them know how much you love the game and its stories. Regardless of your opinion on ME's successor, this is a franchise that is near and dear to all our hearts, and it would be a real shame for them to abandon it while they work on Anthem and DA4 instead. The next time you might see them working on a Mass Effect game might be the year 2025, which would be a criminal lack of ME in our lives. Let Bioware know that Mass Effect is pretty cool, so even if it is only the occasional novel, or multiplayer expansion, or promotional art...we still want Mass Effect in our lives!

Thanks for reading everyone. Catch y'all next time! And Happy N7 Day (or whatever day it currently happens to be) to all you out there!

* * *

 **Next time on Mass Effective: A Hero Lost!**

The Agents of the Shadow Broker play their hands. But so does the Crew of the Normandy! The Battle over Shepard Commences!


	6. Shepard's Secret Service

**A Darkly Lit Room**

From the one bludgeoned eye of mine still open, I could just barely make out the bastard as he turned around, apparently having finished wiping his claws on that ragged, rot-infested cloth, infuriating smirk still plastered across his face.

I'll tell you that the last few minutes here haven't been pleasant. Or maybe hours? I wasn't quite sure how long we've been here to be honest. At this point, it was all starting to blur together.

"Oh...wow...when did all _that_ happen?" the alien mockingly asked after a long moment of silence, pointing a talon in my direction, apparently losing track of the time as well. "Your face is more swollen than an angry kepta, Shield. And so much black and red... spirits you humans look gross. I'll be upfront about this. You look like shit, Shield. Hm. Or did you always look like that? Hahahahahaha! Ooooh... ha. That was a joke, Shield. It's polite to laugh."

I didn't humor him. Which only caused him to repeat the entire process over again.

"Gagh-"

Only, one of his talons caught my face this time around, splitting open the skin, causing a nasty gash to form under my eye. And it stung like a mother.

"Oops!" the bastard aped, wearing a faux expression of concern. "I am so sorry! Do you want some medi-gel for that? It looks bad. Spirits, you could go blind! Ah, it couldn't hurt, could it? Don't want you to bleed all over yourself now! Here!"

I could only grunt in pain as a palm full of the stuff was suddenly smeared into my split cheek, claw grinding itself into my face as violently as it could.

"It is only fair, right? Right?! You did do the same for ME, SHIELD! After you STABBED ME! And stole MY ship! And left ME LOCKED IN A CAGE LIKE A RAPID SHRUCK-"

I spit out the gel that had gotten into my mouth, gasping for air as his claw suffocated me, warranting another growl from my captor and violent cuff across the face.

"Don't you take my kindness for granted! You know how much that shit costs?!" After watching me reel, he then took a step back, sighed, and started clicking his tongue. "You're lucky I'm being so patient with you. Most wouldn't be after what you did but...I like to believe I'm more civilized than the rest of my colleagues."

"Ergh..how...how are you still-" I could only repeat, face still searing, eyes seeing stars, before he interrupted me again.

"Spirits! How many times do you plan on beating that dead cow?!" he griped loudly, taking my face tightly in his claw. "I'll tell you something. It's getting real old, Shield! I know you have a much better lexicon than this." He shoved off my face and the chair I was strapped to. "You know- ah... that must be it. You must still be confused on what exactly is happening here-"

"No," I finally gathered the strength to say, mumbling the word through busted lips. "I know...I'm being knocked around...by a cowardly fuck-"

He hit me with an open claw this time around.

"Shut up. Shut up! How many times do I have to tell you?! It's rude to interrupt!" He took a moment to adjust his armor's collar. And another lull of silence passed as he relegated himself back to simply staring. Observing my face, as his golden eyes flit across it. Like it was a piece of art to be admired. His mouth gaped as he stood there still, almost as if he thought that he could literally drink in the sight of me bloodied and beaten.

An entire eternity seemed to pass before he gathered his wits and suddenly piped up again. "Ah! And besides. Just take a moment to think of it, Shield. Take a step back and then take this all in." He motioned to the dimly lit room around us. "Can you just _imagine_ the luck I have, Shield? For us to be here right now? After my failure with you...how much things have turned around? Really! Who would have thought!? Makes you appreciate all the serendipity this galaxy has to offer-"

Oh fuck, is he going to-

"After all my recent accomplishments, consider that the Broker entrusted ME with this deal, Shield! In spite of my failure with _you_! To hand that maggot-infested whore over to those bug-eyed freaks stopping by! Not Tazzik! Not Vor Tun! But ME! And then, right in the middle of my ticket back into the Broker's inner circle, without any notice, the human I want most in the galaxy, the one who I would kill my nathak for, just happens to fall right into my lap?! I can't describe the JOY I am feeling at this very moment Shield. I truly can't."

It's been a while since I've heard my last villainous monologue. I would have certainly taken the creepy silence back in a heartbeat had I known this was coming. And now, of course, I was certain. What was coming to him that is.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" the ghostly white turian spoke up as he caught me muttering it under my breath.

"...I said...I'm going to beat the ever living shit out of you. Again. And this time..." I added, looking him dead in his dirty yellow eyes. "You're not getting back up."

No one got to insult her like that-

"Mmm, there's the Shield I know," he only retorted. "So crass. So optimistic. And so damn _stupid_."

I shut my eye as he brought his claw around again. But after waiting some time... I realized it never would. And he only laughed as I slowly reopened my eye, having realized the turian had just been toying with me.

Or so I thought before he had struck me as soon as I had let my guard down.

"Seeing yourself so pathetic...that's almost punishment enough, I think. And _think_ , Shield! For all this to happen, all I had to do was simply wait for you to come to _me_! After all that time I wasted trying to get _you_! All those credits wasted, trying to have you killed since we last met... it's a crying shame-"

"What did you say-"

"What did _**I**_ say about interrupting?" the ghostly pale turian quickly snarled, batting my face several times. He let out a sigh after finishing, as I began rolling in and out of consciousness, taking the short intermission to wipe his fists of the stains.

"But to answer your question... yes. You heard right. How'd you enjoy my last present back on Earth, by the way Shield? A good graduation gift. I thought. A bullet through the head. One that could charitably end your miserable existence. Ah. I'm getting chills just thinking about it."

"You..." I could only mouth after the last throe. "...you-"

"Yes, yes that was all me, Shield. I know it just ended up grazing you but... you still got to skip all those drills in your last week of camp because of me, didn't you? I've yet to hear a thank you. You're welcome, by the way. As we can both clearly see however, my money was not well-spent. But don't worry. I already reprimanded the useless ape responsible. Really. How hard is it to kill someone?! You didn't even have a kinetic barrier for spirit's sake! Spirits, even when you were a bed-ridden louse on the Presidium..."

He tutted as if I was petulant child. Which was interesting to learn since I didn't know turians were even capable of it.

"That...all of that...was because of you?!"

Back when I was still in the hospital...after the Battle of The Citadel...I had hemorrhaged. Almost died. Someone had 'accidentally' given me blood thinners during the night. Or so everyone thought. They had all said it had just been a clerical error. Wouldn't happen again. But there were even other times after that, weren't there? That was the largest reason I had left early, because someone was-

"What did I _just_ fucking say?! Maybe if you stopped running your mouth and just listened for once, you would know! But you know what Shield?! I'm glad all my credits were wasted," the psychopath grimaced. "The Shadow Broker does still want to see you. Alive. Even after all this time. He reprimanded me very recently for my initiative in fact. Which you already knew apparently. Strutting around in broad daylight as if you had nothing to fear, enlisting in the Alliance instead of going underground, like no one would come after you."

His face began to snarl at my perceived arrogance. And I suppose it was. I was set on becoming useful to everyone on the Normandy in the future, and every risk that path would include. Being a clear target for the Broker was a big one of them. That's who I suspected for the events that transpired during boot camp after all. But if they thought I'd spend the next several years in hiding because of that...they were sorely mistaken.

If we're being honest, it had been something I had always feared after my first encounter with the Network. The paranoia of having to constantly look over my shoulder, wondering when their next move would be, what the Broker had been planning for me since I escaped his clutch. But like I said...that was a risk I was willing to take. The alternative would defeat the point of why I was even present. My own reason for my existence.

To do my part in helping defeat the Reapers.

But Gellix took my carelessness for knowledge. Because apparently, the Broker wasn't actively seeking me out. For some reason. Why? That'd be a question for another day. Though this misconception wasn't exactly bad, per say, as at least SOMEONE was taking my 'information gathering abilities' seriously for once.

"Haha, ohhh, just thinking about it really gets my blood roiling. Ahhhh. He's content with just observing you. _Again_. From afar. Like you're worth his time! And you thought you were safe because of that! The fact that you even knew that! ...But since I have you right here, right now...I'm sure he'd finally be inclined to meet you face to face. Why wouldn't he, you know? I'm sure it'd only improve my standing."

The sociopath paced back and forth now, lost in his own perverted thoughts.

"Then again... you know... money isn't everything Shield... you know? No, you know what? I'm still very much inclined to keep you for myself. Because I really want you to know, Shield. How it felt. Being so HUMILIATED-"

Whack.

"DISGRACED-"

Thump.

"GETTING THESE SCARS!"

Bam.

"FROM ALL THINGS, A _HUMAN_!"

Kapow!

From the table behind him, he suddenly snatched the sheathed blade that had once been affixed to my belt just hours earlier.

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THIS IS?!"

It was a mexta. A turian ceremonial blade. Garrus had talked to me about them once before, when he had seen it on my belt for the first time back on Virmire. And the sight of it had really upset him. If someone other than a turian carried one...it was usually because they had looted a grave. Or pilfered a battlefield. An alien owning a turian mexta was pretty much a hate crime in their eyes. Saren himself had even conveyed that to me back on the Citadel in our short meeting. But-

"THIS MEXTA IS THE SPIRIT OF _MY_ FAMILY, SHIELD! NOT YOURS! BUT YET, YOU STOLE IT ANYWAY! _THOUGHT_ YOU COULD STEAL IT! FROM _ME_!"

The turian in front of me became unhinged, yet again, as he had several times earlier during the 'interrogation'.

"-THE SPIRIT OF MY GRANDFATHER, AND HIS MOTHER, AND HER FATHER BEFORE HER! ALL OF THEM HELD THIS BLADE! WHICH WAS MEANT FOR MY FAMILY ALONE!" he continued, raving, spitting in my face. "BEFORE THE UNIFICATIONS WARS MY FAMILY HAD THIS BLADE! NOT EVEN THE LEGIONS OF PALAVEN COULD TAKE IT FROM US! BUT YOU...YOU DID! LIKE A LEPERRED LYSTHENI IN THE NIGHT! YOU, DISGUSTING...APE! ROTTING IN THE ACRID WASTES OF TAETRUS WOULDN'T BE ENOUGH FOR YOU! I PROMISE YOU UPON THE SPIRIT OF MY MOTHER THAT I'LL-"

The rage in the psychopath's face vanished just as suddenly as it appeared, as he suddenly shut his mouth, closed his putrid yellow eyes, and took a step back, taking in a large, deep breath in doing so. Just as he had several times earlier.

"...ahem. I apologize for that outburst. You're just an ignorant alien. You probably didn't know. No harm done. I have it back now. That's all that matters. Hmph. Ha. Haha. Hahahahaha."

"Jesus Christ-"

"The last time I held this blade," he started again, removing the mexta from its sheath with a face of pleasure, what little light there was in the room already glinting off its gray steel. "-was back on the Erros. In our last meeting. Not too far from the system we just left, if I'm not mistaken. What a coincidence, right? Such a pleasant book end! The place we first met each other will also be the last. Ah, how whimsical the Universe tends to be. How the memories of it are starting to flood back!"

"...what the fuck is wrong with you-"

"-Ha! Just kidding! They never left. I actually think about the day you did this to me every waking hour of my life," he hissed, pulling down his collar to reveal a large scar on his neck. "So, what I just said was actually a joke. It was funny. So. Laugh."

I refused to humor him.

"...okay," he only responded this time, instead of bludgeoning me like he had all the times before. "That's fine. Don't worry Shield. I'm sure you'll find the humor in this by the time we're done. Huh, I just remembered something. Something I really liked about our last face to face. Let's see if your memory's as good as mine." He fixed his predatory gaze onto my visage as he brought the serrated blade towards it. "Last time we were together, I was using my mexta for something. Something... important. Do you recall what for? Do you Shield? Do you? C'mon...do you?" he ended with a whisper. He then took a step back, now admiring the weapon, running his talons up and down it. "Now Shield, if you don't answer me...I might remember something else," a barely audible voice came through his bared fangs. "Remember something worse."

This was it. Huh. In a situation like this...not much sense in holding back anymore.

"...I think I do."

"Oh? You do?"

"Yeah. What I wanted to say...from earlier that is. Go fuck yourself."

Fuck. That was horrible. Dammit. I could have done better than that. What happened to all those one-liners I had. Dammit.

He dropped the playful facade as his grip around the knife tightened.

"I think you already did, Shield."

"Cadus."

With an animalistic snarl, the turian with the black tattoo turned around to address the intruder, pulling the weapon away from my hand.

"If this isn't important, I'll gut you right after I do him."

The intruder remained undaunted by the threat.

"They just arrived. Tazzik's already getting the body ready."

The turian spat at him with the news, cursing under his breath before dismissing the man in the doorway with a scowl.

"Fine. You'll stay here and watch our guest for me then. Make sure he doesn't bleed out. If he dies, you'll be sitting where he is next."

"Is there something wrong with him? I don't see any blood-"

He was then interrupted by the outburst of someone who just had their hand carved like a turkey.

"GRAGH-"

Gellix was content to ignore the fucking scream, calmly fucking wiping his fucking mexta off on his fucking dirty ass rag instead. The fucking drell, on the other hand, rushed his scaly fucking ass over to the party fucking guilty of the fucking sound immediately, generously fucking applying the remaining fucking medi-gel from the stand nearby- FUCK. Gellix then headed for the door, obviously satisfied with the bullshit fucking FUCK FUCK FUCK.

"ARGH!"

"Alright, be back soon you two. And I'm very much looking forward to it Shield!"

And as the damn door to the room shut, Feron watched it tentatively for a long fucking while, obviously waiting to see if the unhinged fucking maniac would come back in. Once sure that he wasn't... the fucking traitor went straight to undoing my restraints.

"Shit. I'm sorry Shield. I knew he was a malicious fucking bastard but I had no idea he'd go that far-"

I interrupted his half-baked apology as soon as my last restraint had been undone with my fist. But the pain of my recent injury caused me to quickly drop to the floor shortly after.

"FUUUCK-"

"I deserved that," Feron replied, rubbing his jaw.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT YOU BASTARD, FUCK," I continued to shout, as that was the only way I could get the words out otherwise.

"Hey, don't you pin this all on me! You were the one who popped their fat head up and got us spotted. In fact, if it weren't for me, we'd both be dead right now!"

Instead of replying, I lashed out again at the drell leaning over me, missing his face this time around by a wide margin. He then let me continue to roll around on the ground, grunting to bare the pain, trying to ride out the motions. It was only now that the gel was starting to kick in, congealing upon my stump, stopping the blood from continuing to spatter all over the floor everywhere.

"Shield, I know this is bad, but if we don't leave now, Gellix is going to make the deal and the Collectors are going to get Shepard's body. I need to know if I can get your help on this. I can't do it alone."

"...nnngh...fuuuck. Fuck, fuck, fu...agh...ohhhhh...FUCK. What do you need me to do? Gragh. Frick."

"Think you can hold a gun? And then if you say yes, I'm going to need you to promise that you won't shoot me with it."

Gritting my teeth, I quit my bitching over my scratch, as Sir would call this, and pushed myself up off the floor with my good hand, only answering his question with a nod, standing now through sheer willpower alone.

FUCK.

"Then here," Feron continued, handing me a familiar pistol and my trusty omni-tool. "Found them laying around. Thought you might want them back."

"Argh...thanks," I replied through gritted teeth, taking them both with my good hand.

I went straight to awkwardly tucking my beloved Harpy into my pants' belt, and then jimmying my 'tool onto my right hand until... I realized I wouldn't be able to cock it. My gun that is. Which I then explained as much to him.

"Not great news, but we can work around it," the drell deemed to reply. "Shouldn't need to empty an entire magazine if all goes to plan. In fact, I don't plan on attracting any attention period. I wasn't able to get your armor from lock-up."

"Fuck, it's fine. I don't think I could put it on anyway." I clenched my bloody wrist tightly, trying to deal with the throbbing sensation coming from my left hand. Insert obligatory what was left of it statement. I just had to make sure not to get shot. I imagine not having a kinetic barrier makes fights incredibly dangerous. "I'm hoping you didn't forget about those," I followed up, gesturing to the camera in the corner, presuming it was safe to assume that there'd be more around the area.

Feron was already taking care of our way out of the interrogation chamber as I asked however. Just as he had apparently already taken care of the room's security. "Don't worry about it."

"Alright then," I replied to him, finally sucking it up, letting go of the throbbing stump now that it had stopped bleeding and my body's adrenaline was starting to kick in. Heaving deeply, I then used my sleeve to finally wipe off the blood that had been caked over my eye. Shit had been bugging me ever since I got here.

"...Let's go."

Instead of replying however, Feron took a moment to look back at me solemnly, or rather...over my shoulder. I followed his gaze back to the equipment I had been tied to. And then to the ground, were several of my fingers, prosthetic and otherwise, still lay.

"So...do you want me to grab those before we leave or-"

"Fuck you."

* * *

 **December 13th, 2183 CE**

 **Deserted Hallway, Location Unknown**

"So, where are we? Where are all the guards?"

Our run down the oppressive hallway was done nearly blind, as the dim blue lights overhead barely illuminated the path that lay before us.

"This is the Broker's base on Alingon-"

* * *

 **Deserted Hallway, Broker's Base, Alingon**

* * *

"-The place is only used by agents with special business. Not many people qualify. We shouldn't have to worry about running into anyone."

"Alingon? Is this the place where the atmosphere prevents you from contacting anyone off planet?"

I followed him as he took a right.

"Magnetosphere. But guess you have heard of it," Feron replied, already turning another corner.

"So, we can't call for help then? Oh shit. And speaking of which, what happened to Liara and Garrus?"

We took another left.

"I don't know," Feron was quick to answer, before suddenly stopping at a door on our right. "This is it. Keep a look out."

I came to a stop, obliging the alien, to my own surprise not out of breath from our kilometer-long sprint, though I guess I have Sir to thank for that.

"Alright. Give me a run-down of what I missed."

My question was followed by a sigh as he started fiddling with his omni-tool. "After you were knocked out, a merc reported intruders arriving in the area. And that's it. We all left Omega before learning who. Cadus didn't want to risk losing Shepard."

"And why the hell do you keep calling him that?" I asked, turning around to keep a look out down the hall.

"Who? Cadus?"

"Yeah. Last time I met him, he had called himself Gellix. And so had his partner."

"Gellix is just a pseudonym," Feron replied, now beginning to use his omni-tool to hack the door's locking mechanism. "Most of the names for the Broker's agents are. The guy's pretty fond of identifying people by their location or job. It's real annoying. But Gellix's real name is Cadus. Don't know his last. And I'm pretty sure he hates it. Which is why I like to use it as often as I can."

"Huh."

I glanced down the deserted hallway. Not a sound.

"...you seem to know him pretty well by the sound of it."

"Trust me when I say I wish I didn't," he replied, ignoring my insinuation. "But then again, I wouldn't be a very good information trader otherwise."

As his 'tool now began to dispense omni-gel, the locking mechanism of the door began to spastically change between the colors of red, yellow, and orange.

"...so what else do you know about Gellix... Cadus... whatever his name is? What exactly does he do for the Broker? Who is he? Oh fuck, actually, just tell me how the hell he's still alive," I interrupted myself, realizing the real question here. "He should have died over Virmire-"

And then it hit me. Hard. Like a rampaging krogan in the middle of blood rage. The revelation had me stop still. I had the answer to my own question the entire time. Just like that, everything started clicking in place. Who called Liara. Who had interrupted the trade-off. Why Gellix was still around.

If I just operated on that one premise... this truly was an aha moment if there ever was one. There were still questions of where they had been, why hadn't they returned, what exactly happened. But... I just needed to ask the right people now to confirm it-

"We don't exactly have time to play twenty questions Shield. But honestly... I don't know. Only that after whatever happened, Cadus became real twisted. He was a sadistic bastard before Virmire, sure. He used to be part of the Hastatim, turian's execution squad. Only joined the Broker's network after he was discharged for brutality even the turian's secret police thought too much." It was at that point Feron finally broke through the encrypted lock. "But after whatever you did...the guy's really gone off his rocker, Shield. He's practically a rabid Varren foaming at the mouth. I don't know why the Broker has been promoting him back up the chain with what he's done since. Just goes to show you how far the Broker's fallen-"

"Feron."

The modulated voice captured both our attentions, as we now discovered a brightly lit figure addressing us from within the room.

"...Broker."

O shit.

"I expect petty insults to be beneath agents of my network. If you have issue with my direction, I expect you to bring your grievance to my attention. Agents of my network also only see me when called. I didn't call."

"...Shield, this is what I needed you for," he quickly whispered beside me. "Distract him while I get what we need."

As the drell ducked toward a console to our right, the hologram continued to address him.

"I'm waiting for an answer, trader. Since when do you think you can come in here uninvited?"

But I knew better than to think that humanoid hologram was even close to resembling the Broker's true form. And... I don't think I ever got a chance to pay back the guy responsible for so many of my troubles back aboard the Normandy. For how much difficulty he's caused me. Damn! Actually, this meeting between us has been long overdue!

"What am I, chopped liver?" I cut in after the realization, drawing his attention to me. "You think the only guy in the universe that knows your secrets would at least warrant a hello."

"Hm. Alexei Leonov. Interesting. I see sending the Blue Suns after you and Shepard's other companions was a wise precaution."

"Too bad nothing came of it," I replied. "And the name's Shield. Marauder Shield. A pleasure to finally meet you too."

He then ignored my bait, as his attention drifted right back to the drell instead of yours truly.

"I had assumed you were a businessman Feron. You should know that accepting the offer the Collectors gave us was the intelligent choice in this matter. Siding with Shepard's colleagues and bringing them here... was not."

"Hey, you were talking to me big guy," I interrupted once again. "And for someone who claims to have the largest information network in the galaxy, the fact that you don't even know what your own agents are doing is quite telling. Cadus was the one who brought me here, not Feron."

"...Hmph. His obsession with you hasgrown out of hand. He will be reprimanded."

"Hell, I'm surprised that bastard cares more about me than he does you. And I think _that's_ pretty revealing. You can't even control your own network. You're getting sloppy Broker."

"You're insults fall flat. I am not so easily rattled."

"You know, when I was in this shithole's interrogation room, Cadus said that he wasn't even going to tell you that I was present. Some real loyalty you got going on around here. Oh, and he also said that you were watching me. And only watching."

I mean, just several months ago, I had told several people of his origin. At least as 'Agent Kechlu', who had usurped the role of the previous Broker. You think something as juicy as that would at least warrant some kind of curiosity on his part. I mean really.

"Weren't you curious about how I knew what you did with Kechlu? How I knew about you usurping the role of the Old Broker?"

"...what?"

"I'm trying to distract him, not you," I hissed back to Feron.

"For the same reason I needn't bother ask why you knew about my operations on Hagalaz... 'Shield'. Cerberus has hounded my network since its early inception. I will admit I have underestimated their reach; but no longer. Though it is unfortunate for them to have years of intelligence gathering wasted by your loose tongue. I surmise that it must have took some time for them to locate it."

Oh. That's right. That happened. Back in my blunder years. Oops.

"And if you're wrong?" I replied, not letting that memory break my stride. "The fact that you still think I'm with Cerberus is pretty laughable. Because I'm not. You have heard the story about my graybox, right?"

"I'm never wrong, 'Shield'. The premise that you have access to my network in any form is laughable."

And see. Some people might have taken the bait there. Show the bastard that he WAS wrong. Show him that I had plenty of dirt on 'em. Although he was also right, _technically_ , which is neither here nor there. Kind of a mindscrew I know, but that's what happens when you're in as weird a mess as mine. But back on topic-

I refused to let slip the dirt I had on him, such as the guy being from Parnack, or that he had a Council Spectre on his payroll, or that he an extremely annoying info drone followed him everywhere he went, because at this point... it would just be for the sake of my own pride. Like he just explained, revealing information this early in the game could prevent me from using it later. You have to save that stuff for when it counts. When it could actually help. And unlike before, when I was back on the Normandy, I now had a solid grasp of when to use discretion.

"-Almost as laughable as what you hope to accomplish here."

"Speaking of which by the way," I answered him, "...why the hell are you dealing with the Collectors?! You do realize what they are, right!?"

"The Collector's compensation for my services is for me, and my business alone."

"I can assure you that whatever it was, it definitely wasn't worth it you dumb bastard!"

"On the contrary, it was quite significant-"

"Significant enough to sell everyone to the Reapers?! Because that's what you're doing jack-ass! I assume that you, of all people, have quite enough evidence on hand to know that they're real! And just to let you know, the Reapers are using the Collectors now, just as they used Saren! You sell Shepard to them, and you're selling everyone to the Reapers when they arrive!"

The hologram made of white noise simply let out a guttural guffaw in response.

"You make too much of this Shield. It doesn't matter even _if_ both parties are connected. The Reapers have been stopped by Shepard. Who is now just a corpse. What could they possibly gain from it?"

"Our one chance to stop them from taking over the galaxy? You're an idiot if you think they're still not coming! So don't be a selfish, self-preserving dick, man! Call off the deal! Or we'll all be screwed!"

"The deal is already done. Agent Gellix is already making the exchange. Product for payment. Right now, the only people who aren't part of this exchange... are you two. I assume that you know this room connects me to my permanent staff on Alingon. As soon as I-"

"Got it!" Feron shouted, shutting down the computer he had just been on, and subsequently, the Broker's faux hologram and every other corresponding system around it.

"Alert. Alert. This is a Base-Wide Alert. Intruders have infiltrated the compound. Please report to your stations. This is not a drill. Alert-"

"Great job Feron!" I replied with a healthy heap of sarcasm.

"Hey, that wasn't me!" he shot back.

And on cue, almost as if it was choreographed, if you listened just close enough, one could actually make out the tell-tale signs of cacophonous gunfire reverberating through the halls not too far off from where we were.

"Guess you get a pass this time. That's probably Liara and Garrus. And right on cue! We need to meet up with them, ASAP!"

"No," Feron disagreed. "We don't have time. You heard the Broker. The deal's about to go through. If we don't go straight to the North Portal now, we're not stopping this trade."

"...dammit," I ceded. "Fine. Then lead the way."

And that he did. We barely outpaced the growing firefight, as we heard skirmishes and small battles happening almost everywhere we turned. The sirens weren't getting any quieter either. But it quickly grew clear on the way over that two people couldn't possibly be responsible for all the chaos going on. Or maybe they were. Garrus is pretty badass-

"Stop."

I mimicked him, coming to an abrupt halt at one last archway, through which was the large hanger the Shadow Broker's deal was currently taking place. Following Feron's lead, crouching low to the ground, we quickly crept over and dived behind the crate closest to the arch. And from behind it, we could see everything taking place. There Gellix/Cadus was with arms outstretched, standing over the coffin containing Shepard just several dozen meters away, accompanied by Tazzik and two other Broker goons. And across from them... was a bipedal insect, face completely featureless, save for the four, glowing, pupil-less eyes on it. It had a long-tapered head. Little vestigial limbs lining its torso. Pale chitinous exoskeleton covering its entire body. And it was grotesque. Nasty. Grosser than even the Keepers kept on the Presidium, impossible as that may seem.

This was a disgusting alien that I know I would be killing by the boatload in just a few years... what we in the industry like to call... a Collector.

"There's a lot of them," I decided to whisper first. "And I don't know how well I can aim with one hand. What's the plan-"

"Shield, just let me handle this."

"What?" I could only mouth as he began to leave.

"If things don't go right, get the body and the data out of here-"

He then tossed me what I thought was a credit chit before leaving the safety of the crate, calling out Cadus' name before I could stop him, causing me to duck back down. And I could only just make out their conversation as I watched from behind it.

Damn him.

"Feron? What's going on? These alarms are giving me a migraine...and why aren't you watching Shield? If he's not there when I get back, I'm going to have to punish you instead-"

"That's exactly what I was doing when the sirens started blasting," Feron replied. And then without warning, he pulled out his gun on the Collector, which resulted in several trained on him. "I went to check why and they sent me back with the news! The Collectors are to blame!"

"What? Lies!" the beetle-like alien shrilled.

"What are you talking about," Tazzik asked. "They were just about to get what they wanted. Why the hell would they attack us?"

"Yes. You're speaking no sense, Feron," Cadus chimed in.

"The Broker wasn't happy with the arrangement, demanded that the money be delivered now so that he wouldn't be screwed over, and so they shut off the Broker's feed for it and launched their attack. They never planned on delivering. Which is why all you're hearing right now is static through the Broker's command channel-"

"Hm. Did think that was odd," Cadus replied, now turning his firearm in the Collector's direction, causing the rest of the Broker's goons to do the same. "Is this true?"

"He is lying! We have ordered no such action-"

"Everyone's barely holding them back as is! We don't have the time for this!" Feron interrupted it.

"Fair enough. I'm not taking any chances," the turian then replied.

"This is BETRAYAL-"

BLAM.

"Ghrk-"

"Good. Now-"

BLAM.

No.

"CADUS!? What the fuck?!" the giant salarian shouted as both Feron and the Collector fell to the floor dead.

NO!

"I told you I'm not taking any chances Tazzik." He bent over the Collector's smoking corpse, poking it with his gun to see if it was still alive. "If Feron was telling the truth after all, we'll just tell the Broker he was killed by the bug. If he wasn't, we can just say he killed the bug before we killed him. We still have the body either way."

...what do I do.

"Grgh...screw this shit," Tazzik spit. "Get the body back on the shuttle and prep it to leave. I'm not waiting to see who's knocking."

They can't escape. Not after what he's done.

"I'm afraid we're not going anywhere until someone gets Shield," the turian said, stopping him as the salarian hitman turned to leave.

But it's four on one. There's no way I could take them all down without any shields. If I'm hit once... I'm dead.

"Fuck Shield. If we lose this corpse, the Broker will have both our heads."

And my gun is fickle. I might have anything from eight to nineteen shots before it overheats. So I had to do something to level the playing field. Or-

Oh shit.

That would be it.

"And I'll have yours. I'm not leaving without him Tazzik," he rasped, taking the coffin in his own claws, towing it to their ship. "So go get him before-"

"No need bozo!" I shouted having seen my opening, lighting up the scene with my trusty Harpy. They reacted quicker than I'd thought, scattering as soon as I had open-fired. But none of the goons had been what I was even aiming for. The thing above them had been.

Back in boot camp, my group had had an entire segment done on environmental hazards. What kind of things you had to watch out for or be wary of in the field. Being aware of your surroundings is something Sir had certainly drilled into our heads by the end of it after all his exercises. Watching out for bumps in the ground (as mines were planted in the path of our daily runs, ones that'd activate your g-suit if you stepped on them). Knowing the position of nearby teams (as he made sure friendly-fire filled with blanks would actually hurt if it ever happened). Not firing your gun on a tarmac or near explosive materials being the most important of which. Which coincidentally, I had just done now, as what I thought was a fueling tank attached to the hangar's ceiling combusted above them. Instead of the enormous explosion I was expecting however, a thick cloud of steam only came down instead, blanketing the area in a heavy fog.

Which was still good enough for me.

One of the Broker's goons came running out of the thick fog almost as soon as it had formed, clearly panicked by the event and looking for the jabroni responsible. And unfortunately, he spotted them a little too late. Several well-placed shots quickly dropped the goon to the ground. And just like the Blue Suns back on Omega (and luckily for me), these guys also lacked shields. Seemed most people in the Terminus Systems weren't too fond of them, which was nice, since it leveled the playing field a bit. In any case, I diverted my attention to my right, where someone else was now emerging from the mist. Or more like, something, I had a chance to realize, before it sailed over my head.

Imagine it. Debris and shrapnel shoot overhead, showering down on you like metal rain. A shock of pain in your ears, and that's the last thing you really hear for several seconds. You feel the next explosion more than anything, your whole body shuddering with the close impact. Never a pleasant experience to have, I can tell you that.

And the resulting explosion reverberated through the room, singing my skin, and vaulting me head first into the smokescreen still continuing to spread across the hangar. I skid across the cold metal floor a good distance, my body still tender from the beating I took just an hour earlier I might add, with the wonderful addition of my gun scattering out of my hand upon colliding with the ground. And before I had a chance to chase it into the curtain of steam, I felt something pick me off the ground.

A giant, armored, three-fingered hand. And as I gripped his wrist in my right, reflexively pawing at the thing throttling my neck with my other left stump of a hand, the behemoth salarian cocked back his fist and smashed it into my face, dumbfounding me. My left eye immediately ballooned up just as it had with Gellix, blinding me. In that split second of being bludgeoned however, I realized I had no other alternative to fall back on as he pulled back his fist to clock me again.

I hadn't used the function in weeks thanks to boot camp, but using it now still felt just as natural as it had been when I had last used it against Saren.

Omni-blade.

Seemingly out of thin air, it appeared, the sizzling, forked, orange weapon around my right arm already cutting through the salarian's armor, searing his outstretched arm. With a howl, Tazzik let his death grip go, dropping me, immediately stumbling backward to preserve the integrity of his limb. And I wasted no time in pursuing him as soon as my feet touched the ground, launching my self forward in pursuit, sinking the weapon deep in his chest, his face livid with rage as the force of the blow sent him backward. Just like everyone else, I had taken him by surprise. A real boon to using 'outdated' and obscure weaponry I suppose.

My weapon fractured with the hit, disappearing along with Tazzik into the fog. But because life is hard, I had just a moment to breathe before I heard a rumble not too far off, almost masked entirely by the base's alarms. And I realized it was the sound of a starting ship. I immediately began sprinting in its direction, giving no mind to the fact that Tazzik had just lunged back at where I had been standing seconds ago. I really had no time for him however. I wasn't going to lose Shepard. Mist still obscuring both our vision, I had already lost the salarian behind me, with only hope that I could make it in time. Or everything would have been for naught-

It appeared out of nowhere, its giant frame suddenly protruding from the mist like a mirage, already hovering off the ground, ready to take off, and without the reflexes of a cat, I would have surely ran smack dab into its hull. With the movements of a lithe gazelle however, I propelled myself off the ground, diving into the narrowing entrance caused by the ship's rapidly closing ramp, and with the grace of a swan, I rolled safely inside the craft as it continued its take-off.

And I was quick to find myself land at the feet of that other merc overseeing the deal. The goon was already turning his firearm in my direction, intent on blowing my brains out all over the ship's interior. And in turn, my body immediately recalled the motions that had been drilled into my head by Sir during boot camp. Despite my handicap, my left stump still immediately went for his outstretched arm, only jabbing it instead of grabbing it like it was supposed to, causing quite a bit of pain on my part. But it also still caused his first shot to go astray, and my right quickly grabbed the weapon next, rotating the barrel toward him, and wrenching out of his hand. A final kick sent him flying backwards, and several rounds chased him once he landed, already going for his other sidearm.

Blood pumping, my vision immediately tunneled on the ship's cockpit, entrance right across from where I had come in. The pod I was after, the one that would save this galaxy from the Reapers, was inside the ship's cargo bay to my right. Entirely untouched. And so, the only remaining loose end on this ship was the only person I hadn't taken care of, and the only one who could possibly be piloting this ship. And the only one that could possibly be leaving the cockpit as its door opened.

"What the hell are you-"

His face moved from surprise, to disgust, then to disappointment all in the span of a second as I directed my new gun at him.

"Step backward. Slowly."

"Shield." The pale turian bared his teeth, standing in the doorway, and I did a quick ocular patdown, noticing he was unarmed. Save for his special knife. "If I had known it was you back in that hangar... I never would have left-"

I only shooed away with the pistol in response. "I said step backward."

After a moment, he acquiesced, backing up nonchalantly toward the shuttle's cock pit, toward the ship's controls.

He was the first to break the silence.

"So... why haven't you pulled the trigger yet Shield? What exactly is stopping you? I believe I heard you say you would kill me just a few minutes ago, did I not? When we were just catching up? I know you want to. Haha, I know I would. Just look at what I did to your hand. Can't believe you're walking around. Most humans I've met can't even handle a little prick to the skin-"

"Shut up."

"-really now! I carved that thing up like I did the shruck I ate last night! And that wasn't even an hour ago! Look at how mangled it still is. That medi-gel is barely holding it together. Disgusting."

"I said shut up you piece of shit! And get into the cockpit!"

"And I assume Feron was how you escaped?" the turian tsked. "Typical. I always knew he had a weak constitution. Never did have a stomach for actual information gathering. How'd it feel to watch him die, by the way? Cowering in the shadows while I gunned him down? I felt sort of bad about killing him at the time. Or rather, about feeling nothing at all as I did. What does that say about me as a person? But knowing now that that lizard was actually helping you really gives me a lot of pleasure. Really tickles my pickle, as you humans are wont to say."

The alien mercenary looked around the hangar bay with a grin on his face before resettling on me.

"...you really aren't going to kill me, are you? Hahaha! Why?! Is it because you plan on bringing me to your masters? You think that I'd talk?"

"...what the hell are you talking about."

"Oh, come on," he barked back, turian clearly angered. "You think that I don't know you're a Cerberus dog?!"

"For the last time, I mean, dear god, how many times do I have to say it?! I have literally nothing to do with them! Oh, and for fucking sake, step back into the cockpit!"

"Then why were they on Omega, Shield? Why were they in that old hanger, Shield?! Why are we picking up their transmissions inside Alingon, SHIELD?!"

They were the ones fighting inside the base? I guess that did make sense, remembering Redemption's original arc...

"...Feron called them. But that doesn't matter-"

"Feron!? How pathetic are your lies going to get?! Cerberus working with an alien is as ludicrous as you thinking you'll leave here alive!" the turian barked, drawing his knife.

"Cadus! You move and I'll shoot you dead!"

The alien sneered. "You didn't fire yet human. Even after all my taunting. Unless you're a cowardly dog without the stones to do it, you have orders to take me alive."

"Oh no I don't-"

He stepped forward again. "I think you do. Why else am I still alive?"

I took another step back in turn. "Bitch, I won't hesitate!"

"Drop that gun, and take out your omni-tool weapon you coward!" He shouted now, pointing the blade in my direction.

"Bitch, I won't...what?"

"I've replayed this moment a thousand times over," he rasped, now lowering himself to the ground, readying his mexta.

"Dude, drop it!"

"You only got the upper hand last time out of surprise! You're not better than me Shield-"

"Oh, fuck you man! Hell yes I am."

"-you AREN'T!" he roared back manic.

"I'm not a cruel, amoral bastard who beats unarmed people within an inch of their life you sadistic fuck!"

"If we had fought on even terms that day I would have killed you! There is no way, NO WAY, I'd lose to a human like you in a fair fight!"

"Fair? You would cheat the first chance you got," I replied, tightening my grip on the trigger. He wasn't going to catch me by surprise. If he moved again... he'd be dead.

The turian bared his fangs. "Cheating is an alien concept to the turian people. Unlike you humans, we actually HAVE honor."

"That's the most bs I've heard since boot camp. You're just a two-bit snake trying to-"

"Take out that orange weapon and face me if you think you're so better! PROVE IT!"

This was stupid. I obviously wouldn't. It was simple arithmetic. I had a gun. He didn't. Well...maybe the old me would have. He did like swinging his omni-blade around like a jackass. And he did do the same with Saren. Though that was more out of desperation than out of volition.

Damn it, this guy is like my arch enemy, isn't he? It would be really fitting to take him out mano-a-mano, wouldn't it? Show him who the better man is once and for all? Be a good finale for tying up this loose end in my adventure, and remove this bookmark once and for all.

"No."

But that was the old me. I'm Marauder Shield now. Fact. And Marauder Shield didn't second guess himself. Fact. And when Marauder Shield had a plan, he stuck to it. Fact. I was the one with the gun in my hands. Fact. And I said I was going to use it if he moved again.

"The only reason you wouldn't is because you're a coward! And I refuse to be captured by one. Never again. NeVeR AgaIN!"

So when he did, I kept my word.

I fired my gun like I had promised, right in Cadus' gut as he attempted to lunge. And then kneecapping him for good measure as he writhed in pain. And as he collided with the ground, the fury on his face was overwhelming, and despite EVERYTHING...it was blatant that the turian wasn't going to give up. That he wouldn't allow me to take him captive again like I had done last time. The bastard. Despite the gunshots, he rose again, already about to launch his knife in my direction, and so, I fired one last time, plugging his chest. And the turian gasped as he fell to the floor, hitting it hard, with an azure pool of liquid quickly gathering beneath him, body remaining entirely motionless as I holstered the gun.

Unlike I hoped... I didn't feel anything as I took his life.

Just like every other goon...he had just been another footnote in my travels. I still took caution walking around the body, deeming to leave the mexta where it lay this time, and entered the ship's cockpit myself, turning the shuttle back around to the base on Alingon. And like that, my journey to Omega was over.

We had beaten the Broker's men, recovered Shepard, and I had found out what happened to some old ghosts.

Ah, I'll tell you all about it later.

You want to know what's really fucked up though?

It had only been four minutes before the shuttle's computers suddenly lit up in front of me, telling me that an escape pod had just been launched from the cargo hold. Imagine how upset I was when I immediately went to check, only to find the body gone. The turian's that is. Thankfully enough, Shepard was still where I had left her. I don't know what I would have done had she been taken too. But fuck had that been infuriating.

I remember someone saying once that turians looked a lot like house cats. I didn't know what that person had been smoking back at the time, but after seeing the amount of lives that Cadus had... I was starting to come around to their line of thinking.

* * *

 **Alliance News Network Daily Broadcast**

"Hello and welcome to the Alliance News Network's Galactic Report, broadcasting to our viewers throughout Arcturus and Alliance Space! I'm Ruxius Rilius of the Arcturus Stream, and tonight, we bring you a riveting story on the Terminus Systems. A feared name throughout Council Space. A name used to refer to the loose affiliation of governments, corporations, and criminal elements united only in their refusal to acknowledge the political authority of the Council or adhere to its Conventions. While independence does have its boons, it also comes at a price. The Terminus Systems are fraught with conflict. War among its various denizens is common, with its governments and dictators rising and falling as often as Earth's ocean tide. It's a haven for illegal activities, piracy and the slave trade being ubiquitous throughout the region, and every so often, a pirate fleet often emerges to harass undefended colonies and shipping lanes in the Attican Traverse. The Council has always refused to interfere or retaliate for these offenses, on principle that an incursion into the Terminus Systems may unite the disparate criminal elements within.

So was it truly wise to hold a series of war games outside its borders? With me tonight is political scientist, Doctor Ajahara Pathani, who specializes in Council-Terminus social relations. Welcome to the show Ajahara."

"Just call me AJ brah."

"Well, AJ, it has been reported that public outcry has been at an all time high in the Terminus Systems tonight, as its denizens express outrage that the Citadel Council continues its six-day series of war games simulating an invasion of Council space-"

"Yeah man, it's like totally, not good, dude."

"Right. Officially, the exercises were defensive in nature, but six turian and three asari dreadnoughts were observed to rehearse actual positioning and planetary bombardment movements. What do you make of these accusations that the Council is actually preparing for hostilities?"

"Well, you know, dude, people say things sometimes, but in relactuality, they mean something else? The Systems don't wanna get worked, and the Council's like yeah yeah. But the Council very clearly wants to shred that gnar-gnar out in Terminal space. But if they say that straight up, the Systems would be all like, 'Come at me dude. Talk shit, get hit. If you hop into the pit, you gotta be ready to quit, cuz we'll take you all the way to the bone zone.' You know?"

"Mm. Quite. Now, Dick Ackerman, prime minister of the colony world Arvuna, was recorded to have said this in regards to the Council's war games: 'This was more than saber-rattling. This was an attack rehearsal. It was timed to coincide with the invasion of Garvug. Terminus citizens are now on notice, and they are being called on to declare their allegiance or be counted as cowards.' In your expert opinion, do you think these war games will affect the amount of belligerency against the Traverse, and if so, what other developments may occur due to this outcry? Will the Alliance and Hierarchy Kruljaven exercise be cancelled?"

"Not to harsh Ackerman's mellow, but he doesn't, like, really matter? It's like he's bogus, cuz, Arvuna's human town brah. They're not throwing the show down out far in the Systems. It's like the fish telling the killer whale it better watch out for the shark. It's whack man, cuz like, we both have gills man, why we gotta be at ends? Whales don't have gills. Worry about the whale. The whale's the big kahuna out to pound ya. Naw, what you hodads really gotta scan for is how the turns and the bats vibe over this. They're the kooks that'll shoot the curl when it all comes crashing down on the set. Everyone else is just gremlins trying to get a piece of that pie."

"Interesting. Well, in response to these concerns, Council press secretary Irana Tinos has reassured the Systems that these exercises are the duty of any military, and that this event was planned months before the incident on Garvug. Which of course we'll be updating you on in just a moment. Thank you for your time AJ."

"No problem dude. Always willing to chill with the big dogs, awooh awooh! And shout out to my sweet lady out in the Verse! Stay gold!"

"Haha...hm. We'll be back after these short messages."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Long time no see bud. How've you been? School going alright? Work treating you well? Love life doing okay? Still remember who this story was even about to begin with? Haha, neither do I. But I'll be damned if we don't see it through regardless. Together.

Apologize for the long absence, as I know you all just love this story so much, practically salivating for the next installment. God knows I had plenty of opportunities to finish it. But had a lot of trouble trying to lay the groundwork for future events in this chapter, not exactly the best at creating a literary foundation it appears. Ah, anyway, hopefully, it will be smooth sailing from here, might even update twice a SEASON* now that this arc is over! And luckily for you all, it will all be PURE UNADULTERATED OC*. No more word-for-word retellings of the plot of Mass Effect for this guy from here on out! Yaaay! Not until ME2 anyway.

I'll smell you all later-

Wait. You know what. For nostalgia's sake, let's do some **REVIEWS!** Remember those guys?!

I _had_ planned to just comment and explain weird choices to those not liking the story's narrative choices. But now I realize who the hell would be reading this if they didn't like it to begin with. Let's get rollin!

 _RFoPizzlemyNizzle:_ Aria is really awesome isn't she? I have to hand it to her, as much as I despise her ruthless persona, she really does bring a lot of fun to any scene she's handled in! Really takes hold of your attention with both hands and never lets go. I do know firsthand however that Shield probably won't run into her for awhile, so sorry to be the bearer of bad news. But Shield did finally got his hands dirty in regards to Gellix! Finally. Was his handling of the situation a little poor? Yes. But with a psychopath like that, you got to be real heavy handed, or _you_ might just find yourself to be the one with blood on your hands.

I don't know why I did this.

 _Toothless:_ Yeah, guess who's back. Back again. The Doc is back, yeah, until next season.

Real talk though, next time I see you will probably be in June*. I tell you this because I care. And my humor is anything but low-brow sir. How dare you. How DARE you.

 _Guest: And_ I wish I was as dank as you think I am. But I'm not. I didn't even know that was a meme bro. Sorry. But at least I keep it real. Unlike all those other posers out there, I'll speak the truth, and nothing but the truth. I'm the real deal son. Stick around with me kid, and you'll see some real cool shit*.

SDTR: When the story that took you three years to write is read in three days. Feels bad man. Kind of puts it all in perspective. What does it all mean. What are words even really _worth_? Why do we do anything since we know it's all just a small, insignificant, cursory, forgettable speck in another's life, one they'll forget as easily as what they had for breakfast? What's the cost of time in relation to our lives, if not a simple expenditure on our very id, our very own _soul_. We have a finite life, and we decide to waste it on this?! Oh god. My life's a lie. What am I doing. I can't handle this anymore. I'm gonna end it. This story's done. I can't take it anymore. I can't take it. I can't TAKE IT. I CANT TAKE IT-

Just kidding. I am immensely flattered that you were interested enough to read it so quickly! And appreciate all the feedback man :)

And as for the romance, it is most definitely planned, yes. There will be hints and dashes of it in this story, though it will take a much bigger role in the Shield's future. But glad to know I got at least one captive reader. yaaay

CaribouExtract: When the story that took you three years to write is read in one day. I CAN'T TAKE IT-

And me too man. Me too. We can only hope~

* * *

 _*Disclaimer: Any statement or comment made by the writer are entirely nonbinding, and are to not be taken at face value. Any emotional damage or frustration caused by the reader's misinterpretation is to be made at their own risk._

* * *

 **Next Time on Mass Effective: A Hero Lost!**

Changing the Fate of the Universe. One Beacon at a Time.


	7. Reapers Are Forever

**December 19** **th** **, 2183 CE**

 **Pania's Great Hall, Thessia**

"Just because it sounds fantastical doesn't mean that it isn't true! The warnings they left us shouldn't be ignored! All of the Beacons I have come across in my travels, on Eden Prime, Virmire, Ilos- they all had warnings from the Protheans that the Reapers-"

An audience member whose face had been growing bluer and bluer with each passing sentence finally appeared to hit their limit, as a loud laugh suddenly escaped their lips. Though they covered their mouth immediately after, it was already too late, as her guffaw sent a brief wave of laughter echoing throughout the auditorium. She felt herself shrink back behind her podium, her face a canvas of bright violet as the crowd's raucous laughter continued to vex the assembly's administrator.

"Order, please! Order!"

Though the laughter quickly died, and the room fell silent once again, it was evident what exactly everyone present in the chamber all thought.

"Doctor T'Soni."

Her attention quickly returned to one of the moderators below the stage. Seated at an oblong glass table, alongside several others in front of the auditorium's large audience, was Matriarch T'Meles, the Academic Head of the University of Serrice's Department of Archaeology. And once, her mentor. She took a deep breath as she regained control of the room.

"While it is true that the circumstances of your travels have allowed you to encounter the greatest number of Prothean obelisks seen since the time of Matriarch Dilinaga, I fail to see any veracity in the evidence you brought to this conference, nor how they support what you claim. First and foremost, Prothean Beacons have only been _theorized_ to impart past information to the mind of the user. And this function has never been more than obliquely guessed at by those who have seen them in late memory. Visions of the past are a step far beyond even that. The Beacons on Eden Prime, Virmire, and Ilos are now all defunct as well, allowing no one else to verify your claims, as detailed as your reports may be. And in your manuscript... I believe you had said you never physically interacted with any of these beacons yourself?"

"...no," she admitted, causing the Matriarch to frown. "But Command-"

"Commander Shepard did. Yes, we are all well aware of her actions. Unfortunately, the late Commander Shepard is no longer with us, and cannot personally testify on this matter."

"Matriarch, I saw these visions for myself! When I melded with her-"

Some hushed murmurings in the crowd were interrupted by Professor Aurolya, another esteemed figure in the world of paleotechnology.

"You know full well that meldings are far flung from any elicit proof Doctor. One inexperienced with them could easily mistake dreams or far flung fancies for memories and actual experiences. Not to mention that it would be entirely hearsay on the receiver's part."

"With that, we appear to be out of time for any further discussion on the topic. We thank you for your presentation Doctor," T'Meles eloquently slipped in as soon as Aurolya's words had ceased. "While-"

"Matriarch, the Reapers are real! If you've seen footage from the Battle of the Citadel, you've seen that-"

"Doctor T'Soni!"

As she was cut off once again, and her azure eyes met with the Matriarch's across the stage... Liara realized that it was over.

"I will not mince words in saying that your presentation was more than unorthodox. But regardless of your claims, your studies and experiences in the Traverse HAVE been a great boon to those in the field of Paleotechnology. The insights you have published on Prothean late society will assuredly be dissected for decades to come. Thank you for your time, and we look forward to seeing what you publish in the near future. And before our next speaker joins us, may I remind the audience to refrain from any shameful outbursts that would interrupt our guests. If you experience discomfort with what is being presented, please be respectful out of concern for those who do not share such sentiment. Now, next in our billing, we have Doctor Kenson on the Radiometric Dating of-"

She reluctantly picked up her notes as she was dismissed by the Board, leaving the stage defeated as her words went unheeded once again, the phantom snickering of the crowd pursuing her as she made room for the next presenter.

The sky was set aflame by Thessia's setting sun as she exited the Great Hall alone. The peach-colored horizon of Serrice's sprawling arcology was a comfort she had once taken for granted just several decades ago. But after all her adventures over the past year, she was more than glad to finally be home, in spite of the day's events. Or so she had thought.

The busy markets of Krythe Square were still rife with visitors as she passed by, despite the late hour of the day. The vendors crying out the prices of their wares, the busy hustle of couples attempting to buy last minute gifts for the upcoming holiday, the Dalemitrians loudly preaching their gospel in the middle of the plaza, growing bolder and bolder as of late; Serrice was alive with commerce as usual.

She sighed as she entered her apartment, envious of those she had just passed. After becoming so accustomed to living on the Normandy, being around so many, at all times of the day...being alone now was a lot...lonelier than she remembered. The sleek doors to her abode quickly slid open as the lock became undone, and Liara quickly dropped her work on the nearby foyer stand.

Without a second thought, she threw herself down on the living room divan, exhausted from her schedule. Even when she had been excavating on Ilos, she had still been forced to share a room with several contemporaries. But now? Now it really was just her-

"HEY Blue Bear-"

"AHH!"

"AH?!"

She immediately flared her biotics and threw them at the intruder, entrapping them in a stasis field as she rolled off the lounge chair and away from the villain.

"...rough day, huh?"

"Goddess!"

She placed her hands on her chest when she realized it had just been Shield. She had completely forgotten about him in the wake of the presentation.

"Ah...Shield, you...you startled me."

"Oh. My bad. Sorry."

"No, you should not be the one apologizing. It's not your fault that I...overreacted..."

"Haha, don't worry about it," he replied with a dismissive laugh. "Shouldn't have sneaked up on you like that. Again, my bad."

She let out a heavy sigh, heart still thumping from the scare. How had she missed him? Had he been hiding behind the furniture this entire time? He had snuck up on her so easily-

"Mm. So...uh..." Her attention was quickly recalled to the man. "Not to be rude or anything but, uh... do you think I could be let down?"

"Oh!"

In embarrassment, she quickly dissipated the field around him, letting the man free to fall to the floor. The action had become so natural from her travels aboard the Normandy that she hadn't given it a second thought.

"Mass effect fields are so weird," he proclaimed as she navigated around the sofa to check on him. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

"Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine," he continued to laugh off, dusting his shoulder as he got up. "I actually should be asking you that. You looked really blue when you were coming in the door."

"?"

His face contorted in a humorous manner for some reason when she failed to understand him. Thankfully, he quickly elaborated, addressing her translator's error.

"Oh. Uh... disappointed, I mean. That's not the Liara I know. In fact, I think I _will_ ask...everything alright?"

Her mood was quickly recaptured, as she once again recalled her embarrassment just an hour ago, and apparently, her feelings were quite transparent to her dismay.

"The Conference didn't go well, I take it?"

"No. No, it did not," she replied with a demure sigh. She took a few steps into the kitchen, seating herself at the apartment's breakfast nook before continuing. "They didn't believe me when I told them about Shepard's vision from the Beacon. What we learned about the Reapers. They didn't believe a word I said, despite everything I showed them. After all the evidence I gave! They said none of it was concrete. That it didn't hold any weight. Even after I told them about everything we've seen! Do you know what they did when I actually told them about the Cycle, Shield?"

"...what?" he replied, begging the question, though it seemed he already knew the answer.

"They all laughed. They laughed in my face."

He only gave a playful scowl, leaning against the divan behind him.

"Dicks. They probably won't be laughing when the Reapers get here in a couple years, haha-"

"Shield! This is no laughing matter!" she immediately bit back, frustrated with his cadence. But when Shield lost his smile upon hearing her retort, she quickly regretted venting her frustration at him. It wasn't him she was mad at. But still...still-

"...everyone's lives depend on this. If we don't take action, if we don't convince them to prepare, if we don't do...something...then...then it'd all be for nothing!" A brief memory of her face flit through her mind. "Shepard's sacrifice would be for noth-"

"Don't say that."

A brief pause went by with his interruption, as she turned from the tabletop she had been talking at and back to the person that had been listening. His copper face looked uncharacteristically gaunt as it addressed her now.

"You know that's not true. If it wasn't for her, the Reapers would have won. None of us would be here right now. I know I wouldn't."

Yes. She knew that was true. Yet even still...

"People saw a Reaper with their very own eyes Shield. Sovereign attacked the Citadel itself! The footage is played constantly on the news. But they're all speculating where that dreadnought came from, even though we've been giving them the answer! People still don't believe they're real! If the Council hadn't hid the truth about Sovereign, none of this would have happened-"

"Liara," he only murmured, now saddling himself on the seat next to hers. "...why exactly are you so adamant that the Reapers are still coming?"

"...what?"

"We stopped Sovereign from opening the Citadel Relay didn't we?"

"Yes but-"

"Even Garrus...back on Omega. You heard him, didn't you? With the relay closed and Sovereign dead...how would the Reapers even come back?"

"I..." That was true. The Protheans' final act had given them that chance, so that Shepard had the time to figure out how to stop the Cycle from beginning again. Yet still...she couldn't believe that it was over. She just couldn't. After everything that had happened. What had happened to her on Therum. To her mother on Noveria. The Vision Shepard had given her. It was all too much to just have it end as it did-

Wait a moment.

"Did you not just say the Reapers would be here in a couple years?" she asked, realizing what he had said moments before. "Why do you think they-

"That was a joke Liara," he quickly responded.

She immediately felt her cheeks flush. It seemed she still failed to have a basic grasp on regular humor.

"...but you're adamant the Reapers are coming, aren't you?"

"It's...it's just a feeling," she timidly replied. "That things aren't over." And there was one other reason. "And we owe it to Shepard-"

The name caused him to frown.

"Look, you don't want Shepard's sacrifice to be in vain. I understand that. No one does. But-"

"Exactly! So we have to do something about it! Shield, we can't just let what happened be brushed under the rug and forgotten about! Garrus and all the others think it's over but... I think that's just wishful thinking. That they just don't want to believe in the alternative. I think no one does."

"Exactly so-"

"But that's irresponsible! They can't they just see what's in front of them! The Reapers exist! And they're coming! I just know it!"

She realized she was panting when she finished her tirade. She hadn't realized how passionate her voice had become over the last few minutes. When in her life had she become so outspoken? There was really one reason she could think of. And they were-

"Hey...do you remember what you first said when you met Shepard?"

The question suddenly had her pause, as her mind attempted to shift gears.

"I...I don't particularly recall. I remember seeing her for the first time when I was trapped inside that stasis device on Therum. That day, she had been-"

"On the Normandy I mean."

"...On the Normandy?"

"Yeah. When Shepard first told you that she knew what had happened to the Protheans."

"..."

"You didn't believe her at the time, did you?"

"What? That's not true-"

"Really? Because I believe I remember you saying something about 'hearing every theory out there, and about finding no evidence after trying to solve the case for yourself for over fifty years'."

Her first debriefing in that conference room all those months ago was now gradually coming back. Lieutenant Kaidan had asked her about the Conduit. Her connection to Saren. The Commander had asked her age, as it had been the first time she had ever met an asari. Then she had shared her hypothesis-

"And I quote, 'it was like someone cleansed the Galaxy of clues'. Even though Shepard had just found a fairly important one that she then tried to share."

And it was at that moment she realized the point Shield was trying to make.

"...you remember all that?"

"Despite all the head injuries, I like to think my memory still works time to time. It's all I'm really good for," he replied, tapping his forehead with a laugh. "But yeah...you were a little bit wary of what Shepard was saying then weren't you?"

"But that's before she told me what she had seen from the Beacon-"

"Don't tell me you still didn't have your doubts. How could a human randomly stumble across the answer you had spent your entire life searching for?"

"..."

"So, think about it that like that. You were already on the cusp of discovering the truth for yourself. You believed in a theory that there was a Cycle that had countless civilizations disappear every several thousand years, with no reason why. And when given the answer to that very theory, even _you_ were still a little bit wary. So why would anyone who hasn't devoted fifty years to your field believe what you're saying now? They haven't seen it all for themselves."

Her hands fell into her lap as she reflected on the conclusion Shield had just reached. But she already knew how hard it was for someone to accept fiction as fact. But she had eventually come around to the truth, hadn't she? She knew it wasn't going to be easy to convince people from the start! That was why...

"...that is why we need to help them see, Shield. I knew sharing the truth wouldn't be easy. And I understand if you don't agree with me, as there's nothing that indicates the Reapers will still return but-"

"I never said that," Shield replied, stopping her from finishing her sentence. She felt his hand on her shoulder, finding him wearing a warm smile. "I believe you Liara. I did tell you that after our final mission, didn't I?" He then took a step back, closing his eyes in thought. "But like I said... people haven't seen everything that we have. Why would they possibly believe us? I'd be concerned if they actually did. So, you have to look at it from their perspective Liara."

She frowned at his remark. "That's the problem Shield, I can't forget everything I've seen. I don't know how to look at it from their point of view. When you've seen so much, I find it impossible to go back to the small picture I had before..."

"I'm not asking you to do that. What I'm saying is, instead of trying to convince them to believe you out of blind faith... just convince them with irrefutable evidence. Like Shepard did with you."

"All the Beacons and recordings we've come across didn't convince them Shield. What else could-"

"Come on Liara! You think Shepard would give up that easy?" he replied with an impish grin.

No. She wouldn't.

"Get savvy and get an excavation back out to Eden Prime and continue where they left off! Dig around where the beacon used to be. I bet you there's more artifacts there that could help us there. Hell, maybe even a Prothean!" The man's lips curved into a further smile with the joke. He then quickly resumed his optimistic overture. "Or go to a Prothean Archive, like the one on Mars. Hell, whatever happened to Ilos and Vigil!"

Though she wanted to... she wasn't allowed to talk about it. She had sworn to keep quiet. Thankfully, Shield seemed to pick up on the matter, quickly moving on.

"In any case, in the end, we're not Shepard. We can't convince the world the way she could have. Instead, what you should do is support Shepard by doing what _you're_ best at. And as far as I know... that's digging around in old ruins."

Though honestly a little callow, she did have to admit, his animated speech and growing fervor was enough to lighten her mood.

"...you're right," she replied at last.

"I know."

It was at that point his omni-tool began lighting up, indicating a call.

"Oh, shoot, it's Captain Anderson! This is important. Sorry, but mind if I take this?"

"You haven't informed him of what happened on Omega yet?"

"Well excuse me, but procrastination gets even the best of us Liara."

"In that case, I suppose you should take it."

"Right. Be right back!"

He quickly dismounted his seat with that last phrase, quickly heading outside to the apartment's balcony to take the call.

"No... thank you, Shield," she only whispered as he left.

"Oh, and Liara!"

"Yes?!" she blurted back.

"Thanks for letting me crash here. I really appreciate it."

"Oh...you're welcome Shield."

The man's head quickly disappeared back around the corner as his omni-tool lit up once again, and she slowly got up from her seat to see what she had in the refrigerator. Despite her initial doubts, she was beginning to think having a guest like Shield after recent events might actually be...nice.

* * *

 **December 22** **nd** **, 2183 CE**

 **Streets of Serrice, Thessia**

"Hark and listen to my words! Friends and fellow beings—I bring you a warning! A warning of a great plague spreading across our galaxy! Please, listen to me! By the end of Thessia's solar cycle, none will be safe! Now more than ever, we must join together to bring the corruption of our leaders to bear!"

The proselytizer and her disciples across the street were still going on about the end of the galaxy as I exited the clinic, her words just as hilarious as before. The Church of the Divine Plan seemed to be particularly bad in this part of the city. And the idiotic drivel they were spitting was even worse.

The end of the galaxy was THREE years from now. Not one. Damn lunatics.

My attention returned back to my own personage, as I slowly opened the palm of my left hand and closed it, to reaffirm once again that it was indeed, truly fixed. Couldn't tell you how happy I was to see that simple movement alone. And though it nearly cleaned out my GI bill, you could bet your quad my stump was cheaper to fix here than anywhere else. Asari healthcare was truly amazing. Didn't even have to be an Asari citizen to get access to top quality prosthetics. When everyone was part of the law-making process, some amazing things really do happen for the common collective.

Anyway, I continued my stroll down the avenue, gazing up at the hundreds of sky cars quietly humming overhead. The fact that my left hand was blue non-withstanding, I was quite content with what I got done today. Got to do some shopping, finally visited Serrice's famous university, and I had finally dealt with the last loose end from about a week ago.

"Save for one last thing," I admitted upon reaching the café several blocks down. A plain silver awning shaded the entrance, with the simple word 'Diner' plainly written in basic above, several tables lining the property outside. After taking a leisurely look around, and not spotting anyone inside the place, I decided to seat myself, as my date had yet to arrive.

"Took you awhile. Almost thought you weren't coming."

Or so I had thought, as I found them suddenly seating themselves across from me. It hadn't been long since the last time I saw her, but even now, after having had time to adjust to it, I still found her current look as shocking as it had back on Omega. The striking black hair I was so accustomed to associating her with was now a bright orange, almost comically so, and cut so short I would tactlessly describe it as almost butch. The white gown was even newer, and even more bizarre to see on her.

In spite of the new hair-cut and clothes however, her face was more than familiar, and I immediately recognized the woman back on Omega upon seeing her sharp cheekbones, prominent nose, and just the plain confident gait she had just carried herself over here with.

"Public transport's not really my thing. So I decided to walk. Sorry for making you wait." I then looked around, and deciding to take my chances, followed up with, "How's Cerberus these days?"

Her hazel eyes immediately narrowed out of anger with my candor. "Say that a little louder, asshole. I don't think anyone heard you."

I smiled back.

"Nice to see you, Ash."

"Nice to see you too," she replied with a sigh, leaning back in her chair.

"You look great by the way. Like the getup."

"You're not fucking with me, are you?" She awkwardly fiddled with the intricate strap going over her shoulder, clearly possessing the opposite opinion. "God, I haven't worn something like this since prom. I can barely move in the thing."

"Special occasion?"

"I hope you didn't think this was for you," she quickly followed up with some snark. "I was just going to throw on some of the crap I had laying around the station before Lawson found out about my trip out here. Made me play dress-up before leaving."

"What? Why?" I couldn't help but ask. Hard to picture those two discussing fashion, let alone anything for that matter with how their relationship looked on Omega.

"Said I'd stick out too much," she snidely replied. "From what I was told, dressing up like a coked-up socialite is the norm around here. Thessia's standards are apparently too high for my 'moth-eaten hoodie and baggy pants covered in cow shit'."

"Well, you look nice."

"Thanks," she replied with a disingenous smile, bringing something up on her omni-tool. "How's Liara doing by the way?"

"Besides embarrassing herself in front of a couple hundred of her colleagues and then being laughed off stage? Good. I think."

"Damn. That's gotta suck. I feel for her. But she was always too naïve for her own good."

"How so?" I replied.

"No one's going to believe anything you tell them about the Reapers. That's what it was right?"

I nodded my head in response.

"It's just a waste of time," she continued. "Look at what's happening to Admiral Anderson."

The name had me wince.

"-If something's going to be done about them, you'll have to do it yourself. God knows the Council or the Alliance aren't going to."

"Wow," I couldn't help but retort. "Hearing you say that is still the weirdest thing. To think, the Alliance Poster Girl turning her back on Arcturus High Command-"

"Maybe I wouldn't have if they hadn't decided to bury everything Shepard worked for along with her corpse not a week after she was dead."

"Woah... I was just kidding Ashley. You know I understand why you didn't come back."

An awkward silence quickly filled the air. I decided to be the first one to break it.

"Despite what they've done...Cerberus does do some things right. Like saving you." I gave her a cheesy grin. "I mean, when I saw you take off your helmet in that hangar..."

"Please, I heard it all the first time Shield. I _was_ there for it all, remember?"

I had almost let a tear fall upon learning that I had been right. The information leaked to Liara. The crossfire that had saved us when we had first arrived on Omega. The commandos that had interrupted the Shadow Broker's deal with the Collectors. We had Ashley to thank for that. All of it. And one woman named Miranda Lawson too I guess, since it _was_ her squad that came to get us. But regardless, I'm not sure we would have been able to pull it all off without them.

After all this time...I finally got my confirmation that Ashley Williams was alive. It was a real bright spot catching up, a win I sorely needed after everything else I did wrong on Omega. And not only her, as the missing STG team was apparently missing no longer as well. Not that I saw them. Man, was that was a long story.

Months ago, the MSV Erros, a merchant ship I had commandeered and then gifted to the STG, had been shuttling Captain Kirrahe and the rest of his team, one Ashley Williams, and of course, Gellix and his pilot, off of Virmire. Unfortunately, due to enemy fire, its departure from the planet had been delayed, and the team had left the danger zone too late. They had all been caught in the blast of Virmire's nuclear fallout, and that had been the last anyone had heard from them these past few months. As far as anyone knew, that had been their end.

We had been unable to devote the time to finding them with Sovereign still in the area. We didn't even know if there was still a ship to find. I mean, there was. They were all still alive. But with comms down, engines gone, life support fading...they didn't have much hope even if we did have their location. Especially when the gravity well of the planet started to pull them back into orbit. A fiery demise awaited them. From what Ashley told me, it sounded like everyone had been resigned to their fate. Yet against all odds...someone found them. Or maybe had them in their sights all along.

But the ones to have found them in Virmire's orbit had not been the Salarian Union, or Cerberus, nor thankfully the Geth... but the Broker. It seemed he kept close tabs on his property, and the cargo aboard the ship was too valuable to lose. In the days that followed, they had been brought to a facility and interrogated, drained of every last drop of information they had. About the base on Virmire, the method for cloning the krogans, the prothean beacon, what Saren had referred to as 'indoctrination'. Ashley hadn't gone into too much detail on that. After my recent experience, I could sympathize with her.

But once again, it seemed like that would be the end.

And it probably would have been if it hadn't been for the Cerberus incursion shortly after. Wish I had been there for that.

The salarians were all freed in the attack, as the real interest of the strike team had apparently been not them, not the Shadow Broker's intel, but Ashley herself. Retrieved by the terrorist commandos and brought back to Minuteman Station, she spent most of her time in recovery. And apparently during her stay...she changed her tune on Cerberus, coming around to see it as the lesser of two evils. Miranda had her wrap up the story in that Omegan hangar before she could go into more detail, but I think I got the gist of it.

And though I had my suspicions, I now believe her recruitment had been similar to the way Jacob had been enlisted, and not due to my previous theory of mind control. Ashley Williams felt like she was making a difference, and working with Cerberus of her own volition.

"Like I said Ashley...it's good to see you."

"Yeah, yeah. Speaking of that hangar," she replied with a playful smile, "I still laugh every time I think about it. All those things you told Miranda. I've never seen that stuck-up bitch so put in her place."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Seeing her face as you dumped all that classified information on her. I swear, she was so angry that I almost thought she'd turn the shuttle around and bring you back with us. Funny how I used to hate that about you."

"...you used to hate me?"

"You have your moments."

That _had_ been pretty fucking awesome though. Just a straight exposition dump to show them who's boss. Blah blah I already know who you are Miranda Lawson, blah blah Cerberus, blah blah Lazarus cell, blah blah security chief Jacob Taylor, blah blah Medical Officer Wilson blah blah Broker mole going to sabotage experiment, blah blah Minuteman Station, blah blah Normandy 2, blah blah Collector abductions, blah blah I want in. Miranda wasn't too pleased with the development, and the fact that I know everything about anything related to her division, but I think I conveyed well enough that I wasn't planning on being Cerberus' enemy. Not yet anyway. At least, they could trust that I wanted to help Shepard, and that we had a common goal. Hopefully she was putting in a good word for me with the Illusive Man. Ashley I mean. Miranda was probably ready to interrogate me the first chance she got.

"You should really try getting along with her," I suggested. "Go for a girl's night out or something. You _are_ going to be spending a lot of time together you know." Especially since they were working in the Lazarus Cell together. Two whole years!

"For now."

Or so I thought. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow after I heard that.

"Apparently, she's going to be transferred to another cell in a couple weeks," Ashley clarified for me. "You should have seen the station when I left it. The place has been in complete chaos with everyone trying to sort out what will happen with you know who in the meantime."

"...What? Why?! ...Where?"

"You didn't hear about that? Guess Cerberus has gotten better at keeping things under wrap since your last check-up," she replied coyly. "I'm sure the Man in charge will be glad to hear."

"Ashley-"

"Don't know," she answered plainly. "I'm just a security adviser. I keep a close eye on _her_ and nothing else."

I had been wrong about Jacob by the way. Ashley took his job in this new timeline. Don't know what he was currently up to, though Jacob was still definitely working for the Illusive Man. The look I saw on Miranda's face when I mentioned him was quite telling.

But...Miranda not working with the Lazarus Cell? What the hell?!

And once again-

"So...what's the scoop? Why did you call me here?"

And now, recalling that I had been wrong about that, and all the other things I had been wrong about due to my rash decision-making... you know, it's hard, being so sure. How did Shepard ever come to make a choice? Did she ever? How much she thought something through? All the consequences that could come of it. I thought I had gotten over my doubts but-

"...I don't know anymore. I know I said that I had something big but...I need more time to look into it."

"Are you serious?" she replied exasperated. "Shield, it's nice to see you too, but I'm doing you a big favor by coming all the way out here. You don't know how much a pain in the ass it was to even get the go ahead to come."

"Look, Ashley, I'm sorry. If you can, please just give me a little more time. I need to know for certain."

She only sighed in response, clearly frustrated.

"...Alright. Shield, I'll be in the area for a couple more days. Luckily for you, I DO have something else here I have to do. But after that, my team and I will be leaving asari space. Okay?"

"...okay."

She got up from our table right as our waitress finally stopped by.

"...I'll see you around Shield."

And as I watched on without another word as she left...I was forced to contemplate why I had just chickened out.

* * *

 **December 24** **th** **, 2183 CE**

 **University of Serrice, Thessia**

"Hey, Liara!"

The shout pried her eyes away from the ground, and across the green, where a human was currently jogging through the field toward her. His boisterous approach drew the attention of several others nearby, students already murmuring, and consequently, it had turned her cheeks bright azure.

"Shield! What, what are you doing here?" she could only stammer out as he came to a stop in front of her,

"Thought you said you wanted to grab a bite to eat sometime this week! And, I was just in the neighborhood, and you know, thought I'd pop by to see if you were free."

"I meant later in the evening, not the middle of the day! I still have-"

"You're not about teach a class right now, are you?"

"No but-"

"Well then, there we go! Actually saw a cool place on the way here I thought you might like. Come on!"

And before she knew it, she was already reluctantly being led off campus by Shield, who apparently wasn't taking no for an answer. She suppose playing hookey once in a while was fun, and no one likes a boor, but really, sometimes his impulsive behavior-

"How do you feel about barbeque?"

"Barb bee queue?"

* * *

 **About a half hour later...**

The one thing I definitely missed the most ever since I woke up in this god-forsaken galaxy was most assuredly the word that comes after this upcoming colon: food.

On the Normandy, all we had were meal rations. And not even different meal rations, but the same meal rations. Every. Single. Day. Wasn't exactly kid cuisine. Then, in my days on the Citadel, I had to resort to surviving on cheap nutrient paste and gruel to survive. A marginal improvement over the Normandy. Then of course, there was the hospital. Need I say more?

After that, boot camp. Cafeteria food in a military setting was the pinnacle of my punishment for poor decision-making. I guess I should have been glad my taste buds had already died months back from the Normandy's MREs or it probably would have been even worse. The days Sir made us skip meals were usually a highlight in the week.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I haven't had any actual food in months. So, this past week had been heaven made on Thessia thanks to the dining scene alone. Famed thessian seafood, Armali's unique roasted skewers, the new broiling pot craze from Mithymna, the vast assortment of candied marinades asari love so much that accompanied every meal, not to mention all of Serrice's famous brandies and meads; shit was poppin'. Just seeing all the options available and the presentation each meal was given in was a feast for the eyes alone.

And due to the Asari Republic's wealth of commerce, you had tons of different cultures, and therefore cuisines, blending into their restaurant scene as well. Which is why we currently had the ability to dine at a human-owned barbeque joint (and one of the only ones in town). With how lean everything else had been, I was just hankering for some good ol southern food at this point, I'll tell you hwat.

Liara only stared aghast as I dove into the plate in front of me without decorum, the savagery and barbarous nature of my attack utterly shocking to her more refined palate. How messy and visceral eating ribs can be is probably one of the reasons this place was so empty, save for the krogan-asari couple across the room. And with how much disgust the krogan's mate had for the food in front of them too, one could tell the owner of this restaurant was definitely targeting the wrong demographic.

"...you aren't going to- mmph- touch your food?" I decided to ask during a pause in my gluttony.

"I'm not that hungry."

I let out a large sigh of content as I decided to halt my ravenous offensive, wiping my face down best I could. I was the one to invite her for company after-all, probably best not to ignore her by stuffing my face-

"Shield."

"Hm?"

Her face was blatant with worry. And I quickly came to mirror it.

"...sorry. We can go somewhere else if you want."

"Oh, no. The food here is fine." She was such a bad liar. "Really, it's not that."

"Oh? Then what's up?"

"Shield, how long are you planning to stay here?"

And upon hearing that, my heart immediately sank.

"...oh. I...hadn't really thought about that. I guess I am kind of cramping your style huh? Imagine it's hard to bring home that special someone when you already have a man around the house-"

"What?! No, I- I didn't mean it like that!" she immediately replied flustered, cheeks bright azure from the joke, clearly embarrassed by the implication. And despite her past adventures on the Normandy, she was most def, still a dork. Though I guess we both had that in common.

"I like having you here Shield, I do." And hearing that kind of helped warm my heart. "With you around, it's always lively. I actually look forward to returning home and hearing about your day. It... almost reminds me of my time aboard the Normandy. When everyone was so loud and friendly..."

Loud huh?

"So...?"

"I only asked because I received a call from Admiral Anderson."

Shit.

"That old warhorse decided to go behind my back huh?" I reckoned.

"He said you weren't answering his calls. He was worried about you, he thought something may have happened, or that the Shadow Broker may have finally caught up with you."

"...did you tell him I was okay?"

"Was I to lie?" Her eyes were full of concern, and I now knew where she was coming from. "Before he ended the call, he also said that his offer is still on the table, but the window for it is closing quickly. He wanted an answer from you before the end of the human holiday."

"..."

"You told us that Anderson helped get you leave from the Alliance to find Shepard, but that wasn't indefinite, was it? Don't you have a date to return? Why are you avoiding him Shield?"

"Ah. Afraid to go back I guess," I answered.

"Why?"

"...I don't know." I brought a hand to my forehead, attempting to find the words, and I guess, the courage to speak. I did owe her the truth for all that she's done for me. "God I... you know...when I was captured by that turian I told you guys about, Cadus; and I was brought back to the Broker's base along with Feron... where he... ah shit."

I wasn't expecting the afternoon to get so heavy so quickly. The half-eaten plate in front of me with meat messily strewn across it almost seemed foreboding, indicative of my future if I continued to Leeroy Jenkins the way I had. Mistake after mistake, mess after mess, getting people-

"I'm sorry for prying Shield, if you don't wish to speak about it, I-"

I stopped her mid-sentence, waving her off. And finding the courage to start up again...

"...when I was being interrogated back then; when I was all alone in that room; everything pitch-black, no idea where I was, sense of time gone, just being assaulted by that lunatic minute after minute... I'll be honest. I was terrified Liara. I had an experience like that before... with the exact same turian in fact haha, but...this time was different. I don't know why but...the thought that it could all just end then and there..."

I felt my palms getting sweaty again, chest getting tight. A colossal fuck-up. The shame and guilt had been racking my conscious for the entire time I had been here. It was oppressive. How I messed up so badly. How worse things could have gotten.

But across the table, Liara just looked at me with her soulful eyes, deciding to reach a hand across the table to try and comfort me.

"Not many can go through such an experience and come out unharmed Shield-" Her fingers rested themselves on my new prosthetic, and she quickly realized her poor choice of words. "...you shouldn't feel guilt for that. Even the strongest minds can buckle under such pain."

For a moment, her eyes drifted past me, and I imagine, recalled someone else who had lost their mind in such a fashion. I waited for the memory to pass before replying.

"It's not the pain that bothers me Liara. I don't have nightmares about that-"

"You're having nightmares?"

"What, no," I lied. "I mean it was bad, sure, at the time it was agonizing. But, it was nothing I hadn't experienced before. You know? I just...no, what had happened was that I fucked up. What bothers me is that I got myself caught Liara. At the time, I didn't know what had happened to you guys. If you guys knew where we had gone, if you had gotten hurt, if you and Garrus were even still alive. And I didn't know where Shepard was. If she had already been traded, if the Collectors had collected her and gone, if I was even in the right place to do anything about it, I didn't know fucking anything-"

"You're afraid of the unknown."

I laughed.

"Hah...yeah, I guess."

She took a moment to gather her thoughts before proceeding this time.

"Since the time I met you, you always seemed to know what was going on. And I suppose that was because it was your job as an information broker to always be informed. But not knowing what's going to happen next is something we all deal with day to day Shield. You can't hold it against yourself for not knowing something no one else-"

"But I have to."

"It's impossible to be omniscient-"

"But it's the ONLY thing that... and it's not even entirely _that_ either," I said. "Thanks to me... I also got Feron killed. He's dead. He _died_ because of me Liara. Do you know how it feels to know that?"

"He was the reason the Shadow Broker captured you in the first place Shield! And you told us it was his decision to put himself in harm's way inside that hangar. You have nothing to do with his death. You shouldn't hold yourself responsible-"

God, and there it was! I attempted to mask my frustration, but my reaction was too obvert for her to miss.

"...do you truly feel responsible for it?"

"Liara. He saved MY life on Omega. Risked his own to get us to Alingon. And then he gave it to save Shepard. When there was nothing even preventing me from helping him at the time! How could I not feel responsible?!"

"He did, and I will always be thankful to him for that," she replied emphatically. "But he was an informant for the Broker AND for Cerberus. He sold his talents to whoever paid him Shield! I think credits as much as guilt for the crimes he committed was what propelled him to help us as much as he did, you shouldn't-"

She stopped when I vocalized my displeasure.

Because there it was again! This was the crux of everything! Feron died on my watch. And the woman who had devoted two years of her life in another universe to saving this fucking drell for his sacrifice, had changed entirely for him, had become an obsessive maniac trying to find him, was currently talking about him like spilled milk. Like he was barely worth the afterthought!

"... I'm sorry for being so callous. I didn't realize his death had weighed so heavy on your conscious."

"Of course it does Liara! I-"

But it wasn't even THAT! It was tragic, and I wish I could have saved him, even though I know, I KNOW, I won't be able to save everyone. I don't have a genie in a bottle, or a time machine, or some save point to start from again. I was going to make mistakes. I knew that! But-

"...you know, I tried to catch Cadus afterwards for it."

"The turian overseeing the deal. I remember you telling us this. You said he got away."

"But did I ever tell you how? Because it was thanks to a stupid mistake. I had him. I thought, hey, I have a gun, he doesn't... I can take him in. I can deliver Shepard and this piece of shit back to the hangar! And I can- I can learn where the Broker's network is, what he's up to, get a lead on that bastard."

"He pretended to play dead and escaped when you weren't looking. How is that your fault-"

"It's my fault because I fucked up. I misjudged my control of the situation, and I shot him. But at the time, I was thinking, if I aim for the head, he's dead. We can't use him then. So I didn't. But I still shot him. And then I shot him a couple more times despite that! I ended up shooting to kill anyway so why did I consciously try to spare him in the first place?"

I felt my breaths getting shallow, I didn't know why I was venting this to her.

"And then I didn't even fucking check the body! Because I was scared Liara. If he was dead, then we couldn't question him. But I really wanted him to be. I _really_ wanted him to be. And then I lost my cool. He kept taunting me about that you know. About leaving him alive for so long. And... after all that I thought I had screwed up. Despite all that, in the end, I had killed him. I didn't want to face that fact so I left him there. Just on the off chance that I hadn't. And then he escaped." I had to laugh. "I made...I don't know what I wanted to do with him. What I wanted to happen. And because of that he fucking got away. After what he did to Feron. To me."

My eyes met T'Soni's across the table, trying to find some way to put my feelings into words. I had gotten so loud I was sure the other table heard us. Felt their eyes on me. Damn. Look at me, making a scene. Not exactly the picture of mental health.

"...how do I know I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing Liara?" I asked as I stared down at my plate, food long cold.

...What was I doing here?

She remained silent, letting my question linger in the air. And I took that as a cue to keep talking.

"...because what if I'm not? What if...I'm just trying to be something I'm not? Doing something I'm not going, and never will be able to do? Wasting my time, valuable fucking time, chasing some, I don't know what to call it. Ideal? I-"

"Shield," she said quietly. "You already have the answer to those questions, don't you?"

I thought I did. Thought I had answered it a thousand and one times. But that doubt, it eats away at you. And despite everything I had told myself after we had all beaten Saren, this one event, just one setback... god, it was infuriating!

Because I really didn't know.

"You wish to stop the Reapers."

I only had one life.

"...of course."

One path I could choose.

"But you don't know how."

"...apparently."

So indecision creeps in. That one fear I had. It's hard to face it-

"You know," she said with a rueful smile, "you remind me of someone."

"Oh? And who's that?" I reluctantly played along. I don't know why I expected her to have an answer for me. What exactly I was looking for-

"Not too long ago, there was this girl who had been trying to convince people that they were in danger. But no one was listening to her warnings. It frustrated her, and she didn't' know what to do. But then someone told her that she should stop trying to be something she wasn't. She wasn't a media darling. Nor was she a public speaker. No, she was an archaeologist. She wasn't doing what she did best, and that's why she wasn't making any progress."

I tried my hardest not to groan in response.

"I'm not Shepard. I can't do the things she could have done if she were still here," Liara continued. "Instead, what I should do is do what _I_ believe best, and what I'm best _at_. And you should too."

"Liara, that's-"

"Shield, if you feel it's not the right choice, then decline Anderson's offer. Stay here and help me here, with my work. But the fact that you haven't already said no leads me to believe that you think whatever it is Anderson is offering is a good idea. And you shouldn't second-guess yourself. Only you know what course of action will help Shepard the most."

A brief lull fell in our conversation as her words began to sank in.

"I didn't actually say that did I?"

"At the time, your words surprised even me. They were very wise. It almost reminded me of something my mother would say," she patronized me.

"Jesus," I replied. "What, are we, parrots? Are we going to be doing this all week? Repeating one another over and over and over again until someone eventually feels better?"

"I certainly hope not. I have a class I need to be in an hour." She took a short sip from her drink as our conversation became a little less somber. "...What is Anderson asking you to do exactly, if you don't mind me asking?"

I sighed as the word escaped my lips. "...N-School. Wants me to go."

"The N-program? Like Shepard?!"

I scoffed. "Yeah."

And that's why I hadn't said yes. I didn't belong there. I didn't have the tours, or the medals, or anything at all that would even warrant it. I'm not even in the right grade. You have to have a vocational code of A-3. At least! But his recommendation alone was apparently enough. Maybe pulled a few strings too. I don't know. Because he did say I had the option. Only because the body I currently inhabited originally belonged to a N7 soldier of course. He refused to believe that I didn't still have the capabilities to be one, despite the fact I was never even said soldier to begin with, as its owner Alexei Leonov had died in 2178 CE.

"Isn't it a great accomplishment to even be offered? Why haven't you accepted?"

I let out a sigh as I decided to give her the short answer.

"...it's a long process. What if I waste all that time only to come out with nothing. What would I even gain from it? What would I be trying to prove?"

"Are you afraid you'd just be trying to emulate Shepard if you take it?"

Wasn't she observant? Everything always came back to Shepard with us. Didn't it?

"...wouldn't I?"

"Do you really think you are not good enough? Admiral Anderson seems to think you are."

"Anderson doesn't know anything. And I don't have time to waste dicking around, chasing something I'll never be able to get Liara. If I take his offer just because of my ego, and I fail-"

"Then don't fail."

I laughed at her terse response. "...you really think it's that simple?"

"As you said, we don't have the time to waste our chances Shield. We only have one life. So live without any regrets. I think you want to take his offer Shield. And if that's true, you should."

I picked up a bone from my plate and gave a long contemplative look.

"Live without any regrets huh?"

"That's what Shepard did."

"Weren't we just talking about how we _shouldn_ 't be blindly following Shepard's example?"

"That's why she was always successful I mean," Liara replied back. "In the end, she never once second-guessed herself. And that's what I plan to start doing."

"Second-guessing yourself?"

"You know that's not what I meant," she responded dryly. "Her confidence. That is the one thing we _should_ mirror from Shepard."

Hmph. Liara's newfound faith in herself was a bit infectious, I'll admit. And realizing I was still holding a piece of meat in my hand, I decided to take a bite.

"Alright," I crudely muttered in the middle of chewing.

"Alright?"

"You've convinced me," I admitted. "Guess I was looking for a pep talk. And by the goddess, did you give one." I met her gaze. "Thanks for that Liara."

"You know, you did the same for me," she replied with a soft smile. "I'm glad I could repay the favor." I could see the moment she then realized the implication. "...do you plan to leave soon?"

"I'm planning to tell Anderson my decision right now. Probably try to find a shuttle off this rock by tomorrow night."

"Is there anything you wish to do before you leave?" she said, probably as frazzled by the sudden development as I was.

"Actually, I do have one more thing I need to do. But it's something I have to do myself. And it's going to keep me busy. So I actually don't know if I'll see you after this."

"Oh-"

"We'll keep in touch," I mused. "This won't be the last you see of Marauder Shield."

"Yes. I would hope so," she said warmly.

I fabricated a credit chit and placed it down on our table, my plate now all cleared. "And besides, you'll probably be quite busy yourself this week."

"And why would you think that?" she asked.

"Just a suspicion," I remarked as I got up from my chair. "Thanks for having lunch with me T'Soni. Stay safe."

"Likewise," she said with a queer look, a tad confused at my aloof response, and probably a bit by how I patted her on the head on the way out.

And as I left her company, I came to terms with my time on Thessia coming to an end. It really had been nice. And I guess with all the things we had talked about, I needed the sabbatical. If I had the chance, I might have even been tempted to stay indefinitely.

But of course, I couldn't now. I had things to do. Actions to take. Calls to make.

I activated my omni-tool as I hailed a sky car.

"Hey Ashley. It's Shield."

It was time to commit to this brand new narrative, and whatever surprises it would hold. I had to have confidence, like Shepard, that I'd see it all through. There was no longer any room for the old me.

"I got a job I need your help with."

* * *

 **Alliance News Network Daily Broadcast**

"Hello and welcome to the Alliance News Network's Galactic Report, broadcasting to our viewers throughout Arcturus and Alliance Space! I'm Ruxius Rilius of the Arcturus Stream, and tonight, we bring you breaking news! What you currently see on your screen is a plume of smoke rising from the Temple of Athame, a sacred place of worship on the asari homeworld of Thessia, and the most recent subject of a large-scale terrorist attack. Just hours ago, assailants who have identified themselves as members of the Dalemitrian religion, also known as the Church of the Divine, entered the premises of the temple, making demands of those present. As the mob of twenty plus held the attention of those inside, an unidentified bomber detonated military grade explosives at the base of the temple's main attraction, the Statue of Athame. Four visitors were injured in the explosion, and one temple attendant is still reported missing. All participants of the bombing have been apprehended by authorities, and are already being charged with over 20 separate charges that could warrant life imprisonment, or penalty of death if tried under Council Law.

In the wake of this terror attack however, what some are saying to be an even MORE shocking development has come to light. Upon inspection of the aftermath, authorities and civilians on-site were reported to witness a large glowing monolith emerge from the ruins of the temple's statue. Though the asari government has barred reporters entry to the scene on grounds of residual danger, amateur footage that was released by victims on the scene have already been analyzed by a number of paleotechnology specialists. Almost unanimously, the monolith has been agreed upon to have prothean origins. And this revelation has forever altered the political landscape of Council space. In the last hour, many have already come to call this recent discovery the largest conspiracy of Council history in the last few centuries. And in the wake of this development, there are more questions than answers. Did the asari have knowledge of this new prothean monolith? If they did, how long have they known? What gains have they made from it? What other information could it hold?!

Officially, the Asari Republics have given no formal statement on the relic. But several matriarchs have already gone on to publicly state that the asari people had no knowledge of such an artifact existing in their possession. Here is an excerpt from Matriarch Aurolya's statement just several minutes ago:

'In no capacity have the Republics ever withheld information from the Council or its affiliated members. The asari have always shared its overwhelming wealth of knowledge with the galactic community, and have always been a steadfast pillar in the foundation of galactic diplomacy for as long as it has existed. The Republics would have been sure to share the existence of this obelisk, and any information it held with the Council in accordance to its laws on prothean technology. Laws, may I remind you, that the asari had originally legislated in the first place.'

Regardless, what secrets this prothean artifact may hold has already been the subject of rampant speculation. Some even question if the Dalmitrian terrorists knew of the artifact's location from a whistle-blower within asari command, and due to the nature of the explosives used, some question if these religious extremists were even responsible, or simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Suffice to say, ANN will continue to cover this story as it continues to develop into the day. My name is Ruxius Rilius, and stay tuned for the next large development."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

So, uh, long time no see gang. Hope you guys enjoyed your summer. Hm. Don't have a lot to say, other than that I DO plan to finish this story, and that I'll try to start churning out new chapters weekly (save for this week, which is kind of bad timing since school starts right after that, but, you know, whatever). I loathe not finishing things, and I rather reward those of you who invested time in this story, and at least give some pay-off for the amount of time you put into it. Though I know it seems like backtracking, I wanted to give at least one more look into the psyche of Shield before I had him go on the rest of his adventures, and help show the transition in his mindset.

And though I know some of them are stupid, Ruxius Rilius will probably be giving quite a bit of important news that will impact the ME world that Shield otherwise wouldn't be able to, so keep an eye out for them. And thanks for reading. Catch you guys next time.

 **Reviews:**

Triggs - I'll be honest: In regards to Cadus, I was super conflicted on what I wanted to do with him. I planned for him to survive Virmire, along with Ashley and Kirrahe since they were all on the same boat, but I was actually this close ('') to Shield straight killing him during the Shepard Arc. I already have a nemesis planned for Shield that I feel will be leagues more interesting than crazy killer turian. But then I kind of went over why Shield even left him alive in the first place, and what other roles he could play. I hope Shield opening up to Liara helped frame why exactly things went the way they did in the end, and why I had Shield drop the ball this time around. Sorry for the unimaginative cliche ruining your reading however, and I hope it turns out to be a one-off low in this story as well haha

SpecterXCove - Hope it'll be even greater to see me back this time around. Sorry for the wait :(

rfpizzle - And yeah, I meant to imply that it was Cadus in that escape pod. Or did I actually plan for the scene to be ambiguous?! HMmMMmmM

The Nameless King - I'm flattered and I'm sorry for disappointing. Hope I can one day make it up to you pal

Tom712 - Loyalty mission for days son. Not really. Shield's never going to actually see Cadus again.

Sorre - 'I'm sure it was good.' I think a lot of people would find that debatable. But yeah, real easy for stories to blend together when you haven't read them in months. But doesn't that just give you the incentive to read the entire thing again!? Lucky you! I agree though, it is annoying when someone doesn't update for months. Sorry.

Sarg - 'Good work'? Not 'great work'? I'll do better next time chief.

Ford B - And awesome reading for an awesome reader ;)

* * *

 **Next Time on Mass Effective: A Hero Lost!**

The daily grind is hard. Especially when you only get 3 hours of sleep to prepare for it.


	8. Live and Upset Alumni

**January 1** **st** **, 2184 CE**

 **Unknown Space Rock, Alliance Space**

N7. The vocational code reserved for the Alliance's crème of the crop. The coveted designation everyone and their mother competed for. What half the guys in boot camp wouldn't shut up about. Seven different courses, each starting at the beginning of the month, taking just over a year of training in total. Some completed the program all in one go. Some did it piece-wise. Some thought _we'd_ end up in pieces before even beginning. The shuttle taking us from Arcturus to Earth suddenly went dead mid-flight, spiraling downward out of control, and eventually, crashing us upon an unknown asteroid.

Life support gone, the Kodiak flashing a dark red as its door slid open and let the vacuum in. It was a little chaotic in those first few seconds. One of the commissioned officers went straight to the cockpit to radio for help. Dead chatter rung throughout the entire shuttle. Another core-man went for the emergency oxygen tank. So did several others however, and a fight immediately broke out over who got the next few breaths. Until one of them found out it was empty.

Some of the smarter, more experienced, and well-informed candidates didn't panic however. It was just part of the show. Just calmly reached under their seats for their helmets. Because it was our first day of Interplanetary Combatives Training, and obviously, this was our first exercise. It wasn't an accident that brought us here. Once everyone caught wind, calmed down, and got their basic survival gear and personal tanks on, we began discussing what to do with the time we had left. Our personal tanks wouldn't last forever.

An NCO who took themselves for an amateur astrologist had already identified a couple constellations outside the door of our shuttle, surmising we were on Luna, though none of us could see the big blue planet around. If he was right though, there would be outposts if we went looking for them. Some didn't play ball, thinking we were most definitely stranded. Others wanted to stay put regardless. But eventually, most of us left the crash site in search of our imaginary objective. They must have wanted us to do something. If we got out of the crater we were in, we'd most likely be able to spot what we were looking for.

The edge of the crater was pretty far however, about 70 km one guy guessed, and we'd have to climb a steep incline to get out too. Tanks definitely wouldn't last that long. It'd take us 4 hours to reach it if we busted our asses. And it'd be infeasible since we'd use more oxygen in doing so. Not to mention that we bounced with every step we took. And after walking some ways, we also quickly found out that more oxygen tanks were NOT hidden inside the crater we were in. What we had was it.

It was when the first guy dropped unconscious that we realized we were going to suffocate before even coming close to making it out. And that's when the second panic hit. If this was really a training exercise. If the Alliance even knew we were here. What could we do to avoid meeting such a horrible end. Some stubbornly kept marching while the rest remained where they were, trying to determine what to do. I was one of said guys who kept going. And subsequently, one of the first to drop due to running out of oxygen. It had been pretty horrifying when it happened. I was right behind two other guys, maybe half a km away from the base of the crater, when I realized I was no longer able to breathe. Discomfort, alarm, panic. No one can hear my calls for help. They were too far to help me when they noticed. And they only did because they quickly realized they were out too. Turning around, clawing at my throat, I watched as the others kilometers away fought with one another for their tanks. I quickly turned my attention upward, as I didn't want that to be the last thing I saw. The stars quickly took my mind off it.

On one hand, I knew there was no way that could have been it. There was no way we were all going to die just like this. But on the other...a million and one things ran through my mind as I dropped to my knees, gasping for air. Think the experience shaved off ten years of my life. What a way to end the New Year.

* * *

 **Base Aitken, Luna**

The first lesson we were taught was that no matter the situation, an operative keeps their calm. If you lost your shit in a high-stakes situation, you might as well put a barrel in your mouth and end it right there. If you didn't understand something as simple as that, you wouldn't last a day in this program. I woke up to the coarse voice of a woman yelling this all through a load speaker, educating us on what it actually meant now that we were here.

And obviously, it had all been just an exercise in the end. There were reserves in each tank to prevent you from going brain dead once everything went dark. Those that had passed all woke in a large chamber venting oxygen, our instructor already present, standing over us, ready to begin the next phase as soon as we woke. And like we had thought, there had been an Alliance base right at the cusp of the crater's lip we were in, and where we currently found ourselves recovering from the ordeal. Though it had been in the opposite direction we had been traveling, that was neither here nor there.

Those of the cadets who had panicked in the first few moments of the shuttle crash, and those who had tried to fight others for their tanks near the end, had gulped down oxygen like fish out of water. They had been first to drop. And they had already been sent home within half an hour after it had all ended, not even truly aware of what had happened, as those that failed the easiest assessment of ICT weren't even worthy on setting foot on the actual grounds of the Villa. According to our new overseer at least.

Major Jill Dah. A veteran of the First Contact War. Former special forces operative. Reportedly overseen thousands of soldiers attempt to pass ICT. She made it very clear on that first day. This program wasn't made to train N7's. Because N7's weren't made. They were born. If we tried to push ourselves past our limits during these four weeks...we'd learn very quickly that it still wouldn't be enough to make it.

The N1 program was designed to teach us our capabilities. Not expand them.

We were then subsequently brought down that same day into Earth's orbit and delivered to the doorstep of 'the Villa'. Where N7's were officially 'recognized' by the Alliance. And where we were then immediately forced into a 50 km loaded march through the jungle. From Day 1, we quickly learned that N-School wasn't dicking around.

* * *

 **January 8** **th** **, 2184 CE**

 **Interplanetary Combatives Academy, Vila Militar, Earth**

A plain room. Never been in this part of the facility before.

"You're Marauder Shield, correct?"

"Yes sir."

The Amazonian woman was paying more attention to me now in these past few seconds then she had the entire duration of my time here. Despite the fact we still had yet to make eye contact since I had taken a seat.

"How are you feeling Private Shield?"

"Great sir," I responded tentatively. And since I was feeling brave, also added "...am I in trouble?"

She dismissively scrolled through the items on the datapad in hand, casually answering me sometime later. "Do you know what begins next week Private Shield?"

"Hell week, sir."

"That's right," Major Dah casually replied. "And we like to do an evaluation on all remaining candidates before beginning Phase 2. It says on your file that you're vocay code is A1, K1. Is that correct?"

"...yes sir."

Her eyes peeked up from her datapad for the first time, gazing at me with suspicion. "Why did you look surprised?"

"Sorry sir. When I left Prudence, I believed I was B1, K1."

"And you were graduated up from Planetary to Naval Infantry shortly after due to your past experience as a soldier of fortune. Is that information wrong?"

"Oh. No sir. You're right. That's correct."

"I suppose it's understandable. You were only bumped up... a week ago? Hm. Very recent. What mercenary company were you a part of by the way, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Uh, unaffiliated. I did...freelance work for the Alliance sir."

"Oh wow. I should have looked at who gave you the commendation earlier. Looks like your work was damn good. Made you some friends in high places. Admiral David Anderson." She gave a cursory laugh. "I haven't heard that name in a long while."

"Are you two familiar?"

"Served together during the First Contact War."

"Really?"

The grizzled officer raised a brow, threads of her alliance jumpsuit creasing when she casually leaned forward.

"I know you couldn't tell from my looks, but I've actually been in the military since the 50's. Liberated Qian and took down an enemy landing site together. Doubt he remembers me though. Must have been what, a decade since we last saw each other?" She brushed aside a gray curl, pulling it back behind her ear. "Now I at least know how a PFC weaseled their way into my program."

There it was again.

"Sir, I promise you that despite-"

She quickly held up her hand, annoyance very clear. "Save it private. I know you've been getting enough shit from the others for it. Can't begin to imagine how emasculating it must be to see a private keep up with all them officers out there." She gave a chortle, as if my presence was a bad joke. "If David Anderson thinks you have what it takes, then I'll trust in his judgement. Seems to have been right so far."

"...thank you, ma'am." The glare she shot my way quickly had me fix my mistake. "-sir."

She cleared her throat in response. "Despite your nonexistent service, your scores in BCT were decent. Aptitude up to bat. Instructors seemed to think you're hot shit. Almost failed our deep space survival simulation, but you still made the cut. Noticed you've been falling to the back of the pack during each exercise this past week however. Why's that?"

"Sorry sir. Training's tough."

She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "It's about to get tougher. The dropout rate for Phase 2 of ICT is 80%. You are aware of this?"

"I am now sir."

"Hmph. So why is it that you exactly want to be a N'er Private Shield? For the fast-track promotions? For the bragging rights? The ass?"

"To better serve humanity, sir."

"What a chicken shit answer," Dah responded with her trademarked crass. "I'll tell you there are plenty of people here who say you didn't earn your place. They think you licked some boots and brown-nosed your way into our current company. And you've proven them wrong by lasting this long. So far. I certainly know David isn't one to indulge that kind of shit either. At least I hope not. So don't give me that ass-kissing canned response. What do you plan to get out of bringing yourself to near death for the next seven days Shield?"

"...to prove to myself that I have what it takes."

"Have what it takes toooo...?"

"To save the galaxy from the Reapers. Sir."

And for a moment, she gave me a dead-man's stare. But she bust out laughing almost immediately like the rest. Though I expected some sort of ridicule, what I said had her in stitches. It took a good a while for her to eventually wind down too, as she looked about ready to die. In turn, I decided to refrain from clearing up it hadn't been a joke to begin with.

"Hahaa...I'll let that slide. Alright you son of a bitch. That's all we had to discuss."

"...really? Oh. Uh, okay. Thank you sir-"

"One last thing before you leave though. Just curious. Why K1?"

"Xenology? Because aliens are cool ma'am."

Her face quickly became one of disgust. The old guard in the Alliance definitely didn't hold the same opinion. "Get the hell out of my sight private. You're dismissed."

"See you tomorrow sir."

"You better hope not," she deigned to enigmatically reply as I exited the room, the vicious face she was making giving her words quite the ominous air.

Little did I know she'd arrive at our bunks firing rounds into the ceiling at 4 in the morning not long after, ready to announce this was where the real show began.

* * *

 **January 15** **th** **, 2184 CE**

 **Unknown Rainforest, Brazil, Earth**

My feet pounded the ground, head throbbing as I smashed through the foliage, attempting to keep up the pace. I could hear the blood pumping inside my ears. Spots came in and out of vision. Jungle covered in a thick haze-

"Shield! Hell are you?!"

My throat was barren. Parched. I hadn't had water since Day 5. I could barely speak.

"They're left-"

I felt something hit my side, and I tripped, hitting the ground, rolling, my rapid pace coming immediately to a halt. Despite the pain in my abdomen and roiling stomach, I could only think 'wow; this is nice'. I felt warm hands suddenly wrap themselves around me. My eyes being sweetly called to close. Muscles relaxing more than they ever had, locked in place, still where I lay. Seduced by the temptation of finally embracing the sandman-

"Heard Shield, Riley. Right! Turn right!"

I chomped the side of my cheek as hard as I could, pounding the ground with my fist. His voice called me back. I remembered the motto. Keep moving. I could already hear the brush rustle. I pushed myself up with a load roar, resuming my sprint with vigor, shaved metal already pelting the area in response.

I saw him break out of the tree-line to my left. We had split up in the last raid. Drones from above. Covered the N7's approach. A concussive round had hit another team's candidate dead center. Gave the rest of us time to split. Riley quickly followed Uche out of the greenery, taking the lead as we now all sprinted alongside the riverbed, unsure what to do next-

"Shit!"

The mud-covered lieutenant suddenly thrust himself into the river as a gaggle of drones suddenly swept overhead. I didn't have time to react before Riley had copied him, throwing herself into the water the same second. I closed my eyes and rolled in as they began strafing.

And the current cannoned us down its brown, hellish waters. Backpack dragged me down. The chills from the icy tributary shocked everything, goosebumps everywhere. My lungs lit aflame, screaming for air now that my body had stopped moving. I felt something tug at my arm, and I let it pull me back up to the surface, swallowing some water before coming up.

"Still have your pack?!"

I coughed too long for them to wait for my response. They were already pulling me toward the other side of the bank as I came around, the riptide of the river continuing to drag us downward, further off course. It didn't take much longer to reach it. I let Uche dig through my pack as I lay on the muddy bank writhing, hacking, water too filthy to ever be considered potable. But my head was already telling me to go back for more. Then my throat caught on fire as I quickly vomited everything that had just come in.

The commander dragged herself up out of the water on her own, several dozen meters down from us. We were still together at least.

"Haah, haah...where are we-"

"Fuck. I don't know," the lieutenant responded wrathful, attempting to wipe his sweaty brow, and failing, with his armored sleeve. He had ditched his own gear halfway through. Felt it slowed him down. The commander had to leave her gear behind in the last raid. This map was all we had.

"Then let's just. Keep. North. C'mon," Riley panted, stumbling past us, already making for the jungle brush ahead. "They already crossed."

"Shit," I muttered, stopping my pseudo-calisthenics routine to follow them in, queasiness having already passed. Like I said...

You had to stay moving.

The 150 km runs, the 5 km obstacle courses, navigating 75 km of jungle old-fashioned, auditorily learning battle tactics while we did strength training for hours on end, rappelling, climbing, swimming, survival training, pooping without TP, team exercises, whatever other hellish physical conditioning you could imagine doing every day since we got here, I thought it had all been Hell on Earth. You were constantly drenched in sweat, stomach churning, vision blurring, muscles filled with stabbing pain, feeling like they were being torn apart every second of the day.

But in reality, that had just been the preparation. A boon they had given us, time to adapt, a full week to somewhat acclimate in order to just minimally prepare us for the true test. It was hard, but it was also manageable, completely doable with enough discipline, grit, and an iron will. Only three people had dropped that first week. But this.

No sleep. 24 hours of the non-stop action. A day's worth of food. Spread out over 7. Small canteen of water. Barely a few sips. Kilometers of jungle. Dense greenery. Dangerous wildlife. Basic Lancer. One ammo block. Hardsuit with 5 round limit. Abandoned huts made to seem benign. Ruins that were often ambushes. Drones. Traps. Mines. Concussive rounds. Omni-nets. Active N7's.

It wasn't just a harsh test to physically screen you. This week was purely for survival.

Your team of 3 packs and leaves the base middle of the night. Given 12-hour head start to make it to the end. You think they would have never even seen us with that lead. No way. But you quickly lose the other teams in the maze. Then the shuttles that zoom overhead feed them directions. Drones slow you down. No time for rest. Their hunter packs close in like raptors. Fully geared, best equipment, N7 tested, N7 approved. They were like machines. You could hear gunshots every few hours. Came in pairs. We learned there were at least three teams. By the second day, you learned very well not to engage any of them. This was their backyard.

I wish we hadn't took the river. My stomach folded in on itself. Agonizing pain. Riley was bad. Not fine like I had thought. She swayed with every stride. Like timber about to fall. The guy still holding the map was furious. Frustration plastered Uche's face as he couldn't make heads or tails of it. Emotional. Without sleep, everything was. Too exhausted to think straight. I blacked out. And then came back to. Just like I had for days. Didn't remember portions of the day anymore. Memory loss. Everything automated at this point. Didn't even register I was moving. Didn't need to think to continue moving.

The blooming flowers were vividly colored. Hues I never thought existed. The sky a breathtaking blue, shimmering wildly. Sun directly overhead, blinding. Vision was swimming, everything was swirling. Mind was empty when we heard the familiar buzz begin to accompany the sound of the birds. I had hallucinated them before. Freaked the others out several times. Boy who cried wolf. That led the last few to take everyone by surprise. Fucked the other group with us. But the others heard it this time. They reacted. Don't return fire. Don't look back. Run faster.

A grunt escaped the lieutenant's lips, thrusting his arm up. We followed his finger to the west as the map escaped his hand, blowing away with the wind.

Barely made it out. It was so far. Through a clearing in the trees, you could just spot it. Just barely. Huge. Unnatural tint of blue. The flashing lights. Two beacons around a shuttle. It was far off in the distance. But it was there. Holy shit. I felt tears wash away the clay on my face.

A bright white flash. Blinding. His chest exploded. Round hit dead center, man blown backward the floor. Instinct took over, body pulling me behind tree. Several more rounds pelted the bark, sending wood chips flying everywhere.

"There's our latecomers! Hey! You guys know you're the last team? You all really took your time!"

The landscape obliterated around us. It wasn't fair. We only stopped once. How were we late. It wasn't my fault. I told them it would be fine. An hour nap. One rest. Or a few. Here and there. How had everyone passed us in just those hours-

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," Riley started crying, huddled to the tree to my left along with Uche. Had to remember. Don't panic. The other seasoned officer grunted. Obviously out of it. Concussive straight to the plexus. Pulled to safety where Riley was panicking. They were both pinned now. And that was his 4th hit. One more and he was done. But we all would be. Only a few hours left.

I immediately turned around. Had to double back. Had to find a gap in his LOS-

Three rounds hit me in quick succession, each a sledgehammer caving in my midriff.

If I hadn't turned around. If I hadn't reacted. That entire volley would have hit. I would've been out. They came in pairs. I forgot that. You had to keep moving. I forgot that too. Dammit!

"Flank!" I cried out, gasping for breath, pain intoxicating me to quit. So tempting. I wanted to so bad. I pulled myself under the buttress roots, shaved metal pelting everywhere, N7 lazily firing just to prevent me from escaping to his blind.

I pulled my MOHLE off my back. I dug through the contents for it. It was in there. I knew it was. Trash. Roots. And- Yes. One left. It was all I could think of. What else could I do. We had one option. No retreat. No escape. Had to meet them head on.

"Shield. On mark. Cover fire," I heard Uche gasp over the ear piece. "Riley can make it."

I was selfish. I didn't want to give up that fast. I still had this one chance. I crawled from out beside the roots. So I could make eye contact with them. Risky. Greenery rained on my head. LT was ready to spray and pray. Wild look. Desperation. The commander had calmed down. But her body was still rigid. Looked resigned. Vacant. Not good. I shook my head. He got angry. But then. His eyes widened when he saw what I had.

"You had more-"

"Toss it," Riley commanded. She came back upon seeing hope.

I shook my head again.

"Don't you dare," the officers seemed to say. Another volley started sending dirt flying around us. Could hear the buzz of the drones overhead. About to break the canopy. But I wasn't planning on leaving them behind. I unfurled my lancer.

"I'll distract 'em."

Uche gnashed his teeth. "Which one."

"Both."

"Don't-"

"All making it," I muttered indecipherably, quickly losing my courage. I felt the N7 creeping closer and closer. I felt them breathing down my neck. They were coming. There wasn't time for this. I clenched the vial tighter. "Go left."

"Don't fuck us. We can't-"

"You can," I grunted, slamming the stim into my shoulder.

 _Adrenaline Rush._

I took off sprinting. Branches and rocks started bursting around me. I slid under a fallen tree. I went for the direction of the river. Backtracking threw them for a significant second. Would have been shot. Knew my squad moved. Other N7 had already switched. I cut my retreat, banking off a rock. The gunfire was still ceaseless. They wanted me bad. I serpentined through the jungle, feeling the hunter hot on my tail. Bullets never stopping. The sheer amount of vegetation. Impeding my path. But the only reason I was still running. It was a fog of war. No visibility. They blindly fired, guessing. Still came close every time.

We couldn't take them together. Splitting them up was the only chance. The other option was giving up. They had given up. Their eyes. There was no way it could work. Speed. Faster. Had to just outrun him. Looping back to the shuttle now. Just had to cross into the clearing. Just had to-

I tripped.

I tripped. I tripped. I tripped.

My face throbbed. Teeth ground out of anger. The damp soil crawled with insects. Tasted earthy. I dare not spit as I laid still in the overgrowth. I could hear them crashing through the forest. Under hanging moss. Between two ferns. Plants had stopped rustling. Undergrowth hid me. Like a green blanket. It was an instant before they had already arrived. Knew I had stopped. Scanning the forest floor. Their guard was up. My hands tightened around my rifle. No. I had wanted to. Where was my rifle. Why. Why why why.

A foot fell near my face. Too close. Dammit. Why. I...I had been so close. My vision blacked out again. The stim. Wearing off. Was at my limit. This week. Brutalizing. I knew what I could do. I couldn't overpower them. I was too sloppy. Too undisciplined. The foliage parted a hair. I saw their omni-tool lit. Calling-

My vision tunneled. Pupils dilated. Blood screaming. I remembered. I poured everything into this moment. Not a misstep. Purpose pulled me upward. I emerged from the flora. Like a shark breaching water. Arm alit. Heard him scoff. Baited me. Omni-tool off. Both hands on rifle. Time slowed. Cut down. Not me. Not like I thought. Chamber breached. The gun hissed. Faster. I was faster. Pulled blade out. Wide arc. Hit neck. Helmet hid his surprise. Surprised I had just beat him. I lunged forward, plunging the blade into his abdomen, slamming him against a tree, finishing it in a second.

"What the hell." He slumped when the blade shattered, sliding down the bark. "Ergh...that was...an omni-tool?"

My lungs burned as I panted like a dog, staring down my pursuer...I did it. I took him. The world around me returned to life. Birds singing. Bugs buzzing. Not bugs. I pivoted and ran. Picked up my gun on my way out. Drones were near. Had to pass under them. More gunfire as I met them head-on. Had to go back.

* * *

I crawled like an animal through the foliage. In the shadows, under cover I could find. Sun was getting low. Sky was aflame. Still following the sound of gunshots. It had been going on forever. They hadn't been able to outrun theirs. I understood though. Forest floor was sparse here. I still took my time. Couldn't lose this chance. It was all over after this.

Took another hour to reach them. Found the N7 pinning them. They had danced around the shuttle's clearing. Had barely left the area. Tried to take the easy way. I had had a clear shot to it since I had been following them. I had already made it in my mind. So this wasn't for me. Pride. Had too much pride to leave them behind.

I flipped the switch. Overkill activated. Would destroy the gun after so much use. Didn't matter now. Lined up my sight from several hundred meters away. Any closer and they would know. Stomach flat on ground, eyes through the scope, I pulled the trigger. They had been arrogant. Blue flared around their armor as the bullets met their mark. Riley had the angle, firing when I dipped back. Had already switched targets despite shield breaking. But the N7's hardsuit shut down with the crossfire. They collapsed to the ground. We had just finished. We had actually taken them out. I quickly pushed myself up and ran toward the rest of my team.

She didn't share my grin. Her eyes were glazed over, like she was about to keel over and die any second.

"They got the LT."

"Where?"

She pointed not too far off, face gaunt. I took her hand in turn and pulled her up. He had been downed right at the end. In eye sight of the goal. A trunk not several dozen meters from where she lay. So close-

"Tried to make opening. Got hit."

I began walking toward his paralyzed body before I felt a tug.

"No time. Let's go." Her eyes were haggard. Face blemished and burnt by the sun.

"Go ahead."

"He didn't make it. Don't quit now. C'mon."

She tugged. But I refused. I went to him anyway. It probably wouldn't count. He had been an asshole in the beginning. I didn't like him. But he was always the first to throw himself into harm's way. Constantly looked out for us. He deserved to see the end. The entire team was making it out. It had to.

I could see his eyes following me as I approached. The pain on his face was evident. To be so close to succeeding. To have it ripped away in an instant. I quickly rolled over his body, picking it up, slinging it across my shoulders. I was an idiot. The weight was immense. I was brought to a knee. Felt suffocating. The high I got when it got lighter. She came back to help.

We all trudged to the shuttle clearing together. Just a couple hours to spare. But another pair of N7's showed up. No mercy. Took pot shots as we escaped. Had to use the LT's body as a human shield. Took away some of our gesture's meaning. Probably glad to help one last time though.

He didn't pass in the end.

But we did.

I did.

* * *

 **January 24** **th** **, 2184 CE**

 **Arcturus Station, Arcturus Stream**

Eight out of the twenty-seven candidates that had gone into the N-jungle came out having reached their objective. Above average for your typical N-class. 'Not bad' Dah had said. Gave us two day to recup in exchange for our success. Check-ups done, IV drips, showers, beds, etc. Slept for 31 hours straight. Waking up was almost as hellish as resuming the rest of our training. Phase 3 began immediately after. Fortunately, it was mostly just classes. Leadership skills, small-unit tactics, terrain manipulation. Dabbled in specialized marksmanship on the firing range. Strength training continued amidst all of this.

When graduation came, it felt like an entire lifetime had passed. Some admiral had come to give us a speech on what it meant to officially be a special forces operative. Trudged on about camaraderie, and teamwork, and how we're all one big family. Not that exciting. Felt the actual ceremony had been held upon completing Phase 2. This entire affair almost felt meaningless. Still didn't seem real. Sitting in a crowd, being awarded N1. I don't know. The gravitas was lost on me. Still felt like it was all a dream. Actually got to see the graduation of several other classes, one of which were N6's. That was a lot more exciting. Seeing the real super soldiers. Grizzled bastards. Being shipped off to get their final accolade.

Shuttles from the ICA had brought both classes back to Arcturus for reassignment once everything was said and done. Cleared out of the barracks just like that. New N-courses were held at the start of every month, so you had the option of rehabilitating for a week up here before going back for more.

I dropped my bags on the floor and took a seat on a nearby bench as the rest of my class went ahead without me. Wanted some time to myself for a bit. Because I wasn't sure if that was for me. Going back so soon after the ordeal I just went through. Otherwise, I'd be reassigned to the Citadel to continue my AIT. Only had completed a 1/3 of it before I left for Omega.

The bay doors opened once again, and more ICT graduates floated by.

Hell, after everything I had done, I also realized that it may not even be worth it. I mean, I had honestly just picked it for fun. Though I'd eventually be reassigned to an actual company upon completion of AIT...taking a crash course in xenology didn't really get me any closer to what I needed to do. It was just a-

"Pardon me chap, but you're one of our newest graduates from Brazil, correct?"

My train of thought was interrupted as an oldish officer clad in their dress blues suddenly addressed me. The bars on his uniform indicated the rank of captain. A top dog.

"Yes sir," I barked back. "Fresh from the Villa."

"Ah! Splendid. You seem like a bricky lad. Come with me."

That had me pause for a bit. This seemed extremely suspect. But I got up to follow him as he began to walk away regardless. My curiosity got the better of me. As usual. He then caught up to the last group that had passed, picking up two other N-school graduates, before turning us toward a restricted area of the station. With a wave, his omni-tool got us access inside.

"I am aware that this must seem a tad dodgy, but I assure you, this is all on the up and up. Follow me gentlemen."

Sharing looks between one another, we followed the suspicious man around several more turns before arriving at what seemed to be our destination. Upon opening the doors to the room, we were then treated to see an armory full of marines suiting up inside.

"As recent graduates, I am sure you are aware that you all have a certain rite of passage," the officer began to speak in his heavy cockney accent. "To clear the final hurdle, you must take part in an actual combat experience. You have been selected because there is such an experience happening this very moment, and you happened to be at the right place at the right time. This species of opportunity is rare. If you all believe you are fit for duty, and agree to partake in this operation, and survive this scenario in admirable and effective fashion, you will be awarded handsomely. Do you lads feel up to the challenge?"

The other two wasted no time in responding. "Yes sir!"

And I realized I was most definitely in the wrong place. I heard about the fluid nature of alliance command, unit switching and officers often being swapped between companies, but recruiting N1's for a raid straight out of the academy was ridiculous.

"I'm sorry but-"

"What's the mission?" one of the other N'ers cut me off. I then realized I didn't recognize him from my class-

"Well since you're all in, I see no bloody harm in telling," the weathered old man chuckled. "Our zone of conflict is Fehl Prime! Aliens are raiding the colony and we depart in an hour. Tell Gunny Wiseman what class you're designated, and he'll have you outfitted in a jiffy! Tally ho gentlemen! Glory awaits!"

Huh. I thought I already fixed that. Anderson should have already sent a team to secure that colony.

Shit.

* * *

 **Alliance News Network Daily Broadcast**

"Hello and welcome to the Alliance News Network's Galactic Report, broadcasting to our viewers throughout Arcturus and Alliance Space! I'm Ruxius Rilius of the Arcturus Stream, and tonight, the advent of a rogue colony? Our story takes us to the remote system of Athens in the Artemis Tau Cluster, where the nascent colony of Ithaca thrives on the planet Proteus. Like the hanar homeworld, Proteus has more than 90% oceanic cover. The incredible heat thrown off from Athens raises global humidity to 100%, creating constant cloud cover, and powers colossal typhoons that rage across the surface year-round. Hot, humid, and storm-wracked, Proteus' rare combination of an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere and carbon-based biosphere nevertheless recommended it for colonization. On the only landmass not covered in tidal waters, a small colony of twelve thousand have eked out their lives in relative obscurity since 2179. Until all contact with the colony was cut off two weeks ago. Our sources have confirmed there is no evidence of a raid by pirates, and most homesteads remain entirely undisturbed, so the result of their cessation of contact is unclear. With me now is Colonial Outreach Diplomat Collin Erst to discuss what may have caused the inhabitants to have departed their colony of several years without a trace."

"Hello Rux. Glad I made time for you."

"Thank you for clearing your schedule. Do you have any clue as to why the colony of Ithaca would cut off contact with the Alliance and leave known space?"

"Probably because they're ungrateful colonist hicks, refusing to help humanity in its time of need."

"...surely there's more reason to their departure than simple disagreement with Alliance policy."

"No I'll tell you right now that colonials out there in the Traverse and Terminus think they got it so tough. Think that since the Systems Alliance is so far away they don't care. And they're lives suck so bad. Well I grew up on the mean streets of Toronto. I know what it's like to be out in the cold. So Proteus has a few storms. Big whoop. It's not that bad you sissy whiners."

"Typhoons on Proteus have been recorded to have had wind diameters up to 4,500 km with speeds of 600 km/h."

"So?"

"Typhoon Sterling, the largest typhoon recorded on Earth which resulted in over 500 deaths in 2132, was only 343 km/h, with a diameter of 2650 km."

"Get a little wet? Pick up a towel. They chose to live up there. Why not try to change your living arrangement huh? Why not build a wall to block out the storms hm? Because those-"

"A pilot program jointly conducted by the Alliance and colony officials were studying the possibility of colonies below the ocean surface, safe from the worst effects of the weather. Which brings further mystery to the topic of the colonists' disappearance. If they were discontent, why cut off all content when by all accounts, they were happy to receive Alliance assistance. Alliance officials silently disappearing with the colonists has also raised question. Though a slave raid is the most likely answer, our sources are adamant no struggle was evident anywhere in the colony. It's beginning to resemble a modern Roanoke-"

"A modern Roanoke? Then I know what did it."

"Oh? What do you presume-"

"Squid people."

"...do you suggest the... asari had something to-"

"No. I'm talking actual. Human-shaped. Squids. From Earth. Sol. They lived underground until mass effect technology freed 'em. They run our banks. Our militaries. Our governments. Now they're recruiting disenfranchised humans to overthrow us. It won't be long til all the calamari on Earth is outlawed. And I love eating cephalopodi. That's why you can't trust these damn terminus colonies. They're all backstabbing traitors working for-"

"Okay. Thank you for joining us. A perplexing mystery indeed. My name is Ruxius Rilius, and we'll be back shortly."

"...are we still live? No? Ok, because George, with all due respect, where in the hell are you finding these people? Dear god."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

So ICT or N-School was kind of interesting to attempt. I've seen a lot of debate online over what it entails, how long it lasts, what really goes on in it, and I've come to take refuge in canon for the answers. In ME3, you get Kai Leng's dossier, which states he received N-school commendation in 2175, and graduated 2176. So one can become an N7 in a year confirmed. Then the codex says successful applicants are invited to return after N1, seeming to imply you can take the other sessions over time, and that it isn't one big long training session like BUDS or Ranger School.

In ME3 Citadel DLC, we also find an interview by Admiral Anderson, where he shares a story about how on the first day of ICT, "We're given basic gear, then separated and stranded on an asteroid with no nav data. The test ends when the last person runs out of oxygen." Still not even on the N7 wiki page, I also kind of struggle to imagine how that even carries out. What's the point of it? How would one 'succeed'? If someone runs out of oxygen 20 minutes after everyone else...wouldn't the others all suffocate and die? Anyway, this was my attempt at rationalizing how it might actually go down.

Didn't want to spend too long with this though, as I really want to get to plot changing how dee doos, as important as Shield's growth is. Would love to hear how this compared to what you all imagine N-School to be like though!

 **Reviews:**

rfpizzle - Thought Shield might need a break from all the action. And maybe everyone else too. Non-stop action can get a little exhausting haha. The beacon will be an ongoing thing for the rest of the trilogy though, and while we won't exactly see the ramifications right away, we'll certainly get insights into the aftermath of it as the story goes along. Hope the story continues to entertain!

Rainsfere - Haha, and Shield most definitely still has trouble looking at the long-term for sure. But while there are unforeseen complications to his actions, the ramifications of being so forthcoming might actually have played exactly as he hoped. It got him Ashley's help at least. I wanted to convey what happened in the aftermath of the Omega skirmish to some degree, resorting in Shield's exposition last chapter, but I felt all the posturing and dialogue that'd accompany Miranda and Shield's meeting would slow down the pacing of the story too much. It was almost it's own chapter, and five chapters for one arc felt too bloated. So I decided to deliver it piece-wise as the story chugs along instead. There is a little more nuance to the exchange than Shield and Ashley made it seem.

And you're right about Shield being a maverick. Doesn't do well with authority figures and is a bit of a loose cannon. As shown above. However, I will have to disagree about Anderson's opinion of him however. From their few interactions, Shield has impressed him immensely. He was the first one to tell Shepard and Anderson about the threat of Saren. He successfully got the intel out of Barla Von that Anderson mentioned. And during the Battle of the Citadel, he personally convinced Anderson in taking extra measures to defend the station. All of which proved vital. In the wreckage of Citadel Tower, Anderson additionally recovered him and the rest of Shepard's team, along with the surviving members of Lamont's C-Sec team. Chellick and the survivors regalement of Shield's actions only furthered his opinion. Then Shield prevented Shepard's body from falling into the wrong hands against huge odds (Anderson knows nothing of Ashley or Cerberus' involvement).

Despite Shields adamant overtures, Anderson fully believes he's still the man who was once an N7, still has all his accompanying talents, and that he still isn't telling him everything. His recommendation isn't to help Shield hone his skills, but rather, to have him return to being a valuable resource for the Alliance as soon as possible, albeit letting him do it at his own pace. But your review looks as insightful as always man, appreciate it!

Tom712 - We have Saren for that don't we? Oh wait-

And thanks to Tahkaullus01, Azzhole, SpecterXCove, BJ Hanssen, RIOSHO, and pteaset for your kind words! Thanks for reading guys!

* * *

 **Next Time on Mass Effective: A Hero Lost!**

What happens in Vega, stays in Vega.


	9. The Man with the Prototype Gun

**January 26th, 2184 CE**

 **The Dirty Hangout, Fehl Prime**

"So there we were, krogan battlemaster making a beeline straight for us, Captain Toni and Essex gone, doubling back to flank them, everyone else scrambling for cover when our shuttle lit up like a Christmas tree behind us." He was enthralled in his narrative, face vivid as he recounted his heroism earlier in the day. "We had to do something. So I told-"

His eyes suddenly caught someone behind me. "Oh shit! That's the guy I was telling you about. The crazy SOB who flew under our shuttle! Ey yo, Cortez! Over here man! There's somebody I want you to meet!"

He pound back his glass in one go as he got up to greet him, wrapping his arms around the pilot as they met each other halfway.

"Someone's feeling friendly," Cortez laughed, returning the gesture. The marine quickly guided the pilot to where we had been sitting.

"Cortez, this is Shield. Shield, Cortez."

"Nice to meet you," I followed up, shaking his hand, quickly recognizing that the name belonged exactly to who I was thinking of.

"Likewise," Cortez responded, returning the gesture. "Hey...you actually look pretty familiar. Have we met somewhere?"

"...don't think so."

"Huh. I must be mistaken. I did see you two talking earlier. I was actually just about to say, I'm surprised that lughead over here hasn't already bored you to death yet. Is he still going on about that krogan he fought?"

"I was just getting to the good part," Lieutenant James Vega said already distracted, raising a hand to the barkeep for another drink.

"Do you mind if I finish it then? So he challenges a krogan one on one, got his ass handed to him, and then someone else had to save him. Great story," Cortez wrapped up. "Now, if you want a REAL narrative, you should listen to how I saved his entire unit from becoming a flaming crater in the battle's opening."

"Get your own audience pendejo," Vega announced upon receiving his beer. "This one's miiiine." I quickly found his python wrapping tightly around my neck, strangling me. It took herculean effort to wrassle it off.

"Heard the Blood Pack shot them out of the sky," I replied, gesturing to Vega. "Then you swooped over right in time to guide their ride safely to the ground. Right?"

"I see my reputation precedes me," Cortez laughed. "It was a little more exciting than that, but I suppose that's the gist of it."

"If you want exciting, you should ask Shield over here how he single-handedly saved the entire colony's ass," Vega said, attempting to one-up the pilot. "Isn't that right Shield?"

"Nope. Not at all," I denied, taking another drink from my bottle.

"You were with the team defending the actual colony?" Cortez inquired.

"...Yeah. I suppose I was. Or was supposed to."

"I heard you all had it rough. I still haven't heard exactly what happened to you guys-"

"Same thing that happened to everyone else," I scoffed. I thought drinking would help. But it didn't. "...our group got hit hard. They were right under our descent. Most of the shuttles went down in the outskirts."

"Damn," Cortez replied, accepting the drink Vega handed him. "I knew everyone's landing was a bit patchy, but I didn't realize you guys weren't even able to touch the ground-"

"Ours was the only one that made it safely," I clarified. "Our CO, Captain Gaskin, took a couple of N6's to look for survivors. I was in the group left at the colony. Volunteered to check the colonist's safehouse. Seemed clear. Then the mercenaries that shot us down came. Vorcha. If I hadn't gotten there when I did...I mean those little gremlins were everywhere. I picked a lot off when they were climbing across the ravine but...then the militia came to help. And then guys went down left and right. Bodies dropped, one after another. And you know, little by little, our group kept getting smaller. And smaller. Couldn't do anything, they were all just cut down-"

"I told you to quit it with that," Vega finally interrupted, just like he had before. "Enough with the sob story cabron! You forget why we're drinking here in the first place? To honor the heroes that lost their lives today! We'll live it up enough for all of them. So c'mon."

I gave a begrudging smile as he clapped me on the back. After a brief pause, I finished my beer. "Sorry," I apologized while wiping my mouth. "Anyway, held out long enough for this asshole and Gaskin to find us and save my ass."

"Okay, you left out the best part but that's why I'm here," Vega said with a grin. "You should have seen this guy when we got to his position Cortez. Shield was lining up shots so straight that I thought he was a mech. It was like headshot, headshot, headshot. Vorcha didn't even have a chance. Even Milque was impressed. Weren't you Milque," he finished, shouting the name across the room. The sniper whose name he called didn't pay him any mind. "He was impressed," Vega assured us. "You know, if you're lucky enough Shield, the people here might even build you a monument like Shepard has on the Citadel. It'll be smaller than mine, but still."

"You're a fan of hers?" I asked off-handed.

"Who wouldn't be?" Vega replied with confusion. "She was the greatest marine the galaxy's ever seen." Vega suddenly fished in his army fatigues for something. "Aha. See this?"

In his hand was a dark blue badge, colors of the Alliance, and in the middle of it, the likeness of one Commander Shepard. They had sold by the millions in the wake of her death. She had practically become a cultural icon overnight. Though I guess being the first human spectre had contributed to that popularity somewhat. "Unlike some of these yahoos, I remember what happened at the Citadel. Shepard was a hero. She'll be remembered as one of the greats."

"You got a crush Vega?" Cortez joshed him.

"I won't say she wasn't a looker, but I respect her for her actions," he rebuked him. "She wasn't afraid of making tough choices and getting shit done."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"When she was hunting down Saren on the Normandy, she didn't pull any punches. There was that megaton she detonated on that geth base. Then she followed Saren into the Terminus systems, where Spectres never go. She knew you had to go big or go home. That's why everyone knows the name of her and the Normandy-"

"Oh shit. That's where I know you from!" Cortez suddenly shouted, breaking his Vega's pontification.

"What?"

"My husband, he's a news junkie, watches it all the time. Alliance News Network, Citadel News Net, Galactic, you name it. The screen's on every time I come home."

"And?" Vega quipped.

"You've seen that clip of Commander Shepard punching out that reporter for Westerlund News right? They played it constantly on the air when it first came out a couple months ago, and I mean, they would play it over and over and over. Non-stop."

"Yeah, I remember that. Hell, I think I saw it again a little while ago when that one network tried to do a smear campaign on Shepard right after her death. The bastards."

"Well...he was in it! Right behind her!" Cortez followed up.

"Uh-"

"Who?"

"Him!" Cortez replied, pointing.

"...what?" Vega let out, dumbfounded.

"You definitely have me mistaken for someone else man."

"Oh no, my husband recorded that clip and played it non-stop. I have the entire thing memorized to a T. And you were right in it. Oh, let me-"

It took him less than a second to pull the clip up on his omni-tool, and just several more before the freeze frame came. "Look, there!"

"That's definitely just a smudge on the lens."

"Smudge?! That's your freakin' face! Holy shit! What the fuck!? You knew Shepard!?" Vega cried out.

Luckily for me, his loud mouth was drowned out by the rest of the commotion going on around us.

"No man, come on. Come oooon, that's not even me. My nose doesn't even look that big-"

"That's your face!" Vega blurted again. "Right behind her shoulder! Look, there you are. Right there." He was losing his fucking mind. "...you worked with Shepard to take down Saren?!"

"No, I didn't. And can we keep our voices down please?"

"Why you being so evasive hefe? If I was you, you couldn't shut me up...holy shit."

"...because I didn't really serve with her. Alright? I was just...there-"

"I can't believe it. You actually travelled on the Normandy?! The stories you must have," Cortez chimed back in.

" _Were_ you on the Normandy? How did she fly? Did she really take out that Geth flotilla out in the Traverse single-handed- no, wait. The Hunt for Saren. What exactly happened out there? How did you guys track down Saren? How did that prick ever get onto the Citadel-"

"I kind of want to know too. Woah. You aren't N7, are you-"

"No. I'm not. And guys, look-"

"Oh shit. Where you there?! During the Battle of the Citadel-"

"YES! Now can we fucking drop it?"

A couple of the soldiers at the bar peered in our direction, annoyed. Vega waved them off.

"...hey, apologies. Didn't mean to hit a nerve. If it's all hush-hush, we won't pry," Vega responded.

I had to take a deep breath.

"...no, I'm sorry. I...look. If I answer one question, will you guys let it go? It's not as interesting as you think."

"Like hell it isn't," Vega quickly revved. "We're talking about fucking Commander Shepard. The Survivor of Torfan. The first human Spectre. Hero of the Citadel. You served under a legend... what was she like?"

"Yeah, if you could answer one question...that one clip of her didn't exactly paint her in a good light."

"I thought it did," Vega said. "That reporter had it comin'."

"I imagine they did edit the hell out of that interview. Could you at least tell us that? What it was like working under her?"

I peered back down at my empty bottle. Talking about her with Liara was one thing. We both knew her. But-

"Alright Delta Squad! Night's over! Back to the barracks!" a brawny voice suddenly rang out over the room. It was immediately met by the boos and groans of marines throughout it. "We ship outta this backwater at 0400 hours. Sleep while you still can, or you're going to be feeling it tomorrow morning!"

"Shit," Vega bluntly said when one of his squadmates suddenly called out to him. He made a grimace getting up. "Looks like Essex had a little much to drink. Don't think this gets you out of it Shield-"

"She cared the most about her squad."

"...huh?"

"Cared too much." I pushed my seat out, glancing at Cortez and back at the muscle-bound freak in front of me. "Hey Vega, if you're ever in a situation where you have to choose between completing the mission or saving your team...I want you to know that Shepard would have chosen the people beside her. And I didn't realize that until it was too late."

The words seemed to resonate with him, his gaze becoming steeled as his eyes met mine. I turned back to Cortez who was getting up to leave too. Most of the room was already clearing out.

I turned to the pilot who would later face tragedy if we didn't stop the Collectors this time around. "Nice meeting you, Steve. Hope we can meet again in the future."

"...likewise," he replied.

I then turned back to the muscle-bound freak. "Seriously Vega. Don't ever sacrifice the people beside you to finish the mission. Just...don't."

"Okay, okay," Vega replied, obviously a little put off by my words. "Catch you guys around."

"...same."

They deemed Fehl Prime a success. The colony had been saved.

But it didn't feel that way.

I thought my tip to Anderson had it saved last year. But then they just attacked again. And in heavier numbers. A lot of people were killed. The colonists who came to my aid included. It was my first combat experience since the Citadel, and it felt so one-sided, so brutal, so long...without the Normandy squad at my side.

* * *

 **January 28th, 2184 CE**

 **Arcturus Station, Arcturus Stream**

"-exemplary service. For that reason, I have put your good names forward and nominated you for your final promotions to N7. Pat yourselves on the back lads. You've bloody well earned it."

As Delta squad's special attaché, we received our own special debriefing back at the heart of the Alliance, where Captain Gaskin lauded us for our work on the ground. And like the good boy I was, I came clean afterwards, informing him that I was most definitely not N6, and not deserving of his recommendation. And he roasted me good. Not because I wasn't N6, oh no, he definitely knew that, but for me thinking that he had made a mistake in singling me out and despite thinking that, that I had still gone on to join them for the mission and said nothing about it. Something about a lack of integrity. Or something.

And then he gave me a good ole-fashioned reaming for it. Or what he thought was one. It was definitely nothing compared to Sir's. Really more of a stern talking to. Like one you might give your dog when he gets into the trash. You know what, I don't think it really even matters.

Anyway, the ole brit that had hand-picked us made it clear that we were all chosen personally because we were flagged as special interests to AIS. Otherwise known as the Alliance Intelligence Service. Not just special forces. Special agents. Spy shit. Said to continue the way we have, and we had bright futures ahead of us, yadda yadda. Then he sent us on our way, back to our respective squads. Or in my case, N-School. Hadn't seen the squad I was supposed to be assigned to for several months. Anyway, each class for the next grade began at the start of every month. And since we got back with a few days to spare to recover from our ordeal, I figured there was no reason not to as I spent it in Arcturus' bars.

And things started to speed by.

* * *

 **February 1st - March 24th, 2184 CE**

 **Interplanetary Combatives Academy, Vila Militar, Earth**

This was the last time I visited 'the villa' for coursework in my journey to become a N7. It was during the Spring of 84 that ICT really went into assault procedures and military tactics on the field for me. Half of it taught in the classroom, half of it in the field where applicable. They also addressed class-specialized warfare. Don't know if I mentioned that I was given Infiltrator Class in the final week of BCT. Had tested well enough to qualify for operating cloaking tech I guess. Though that obviously didn't pan out. Didn't really like it to be honest. Think you're invisible for one second, and then next thing you know, you're lit up because the system's already short-circuited. Scary to face in the field, but pretty hard to use. Got chewed out a lot for my mistakes in those weeks. But scouting, sabotage, and misdirection were the big key words about my role as a newly christened 'Shadow' Infiltrator.

In those months, we seemed to cover it all. Classical maneuvers, terrain management, breakouts, interdiction, exposing hull-down armature. Things I saw Shepard and the Normandy team use in the Hunt for Saren more times than you could count. To actually know and understand why she'd do what she'd do in the field though, that was something I probably valued learning the most during those months. I earned my N2 designation at it's end.

* * *

 **April 1st - May 21st, 2184 CE**

 **Fort Lewis Puller, Europa**

I was sent to Jupiter next for environmental training. Or one of its moons to be more precise. Had 13% of the gravity of Earth, a little less than Luna. Average temp of 107 K, or -171 C. Which was about -100 C colder than Luna. So didn't really walk around in my fatigues. Zero g training. High pressure environments. Cold environments. Freezing environments. Ammonia-based environments. Rainy environments. Environments that pretty much ranged from the mundane to the absurd. They had the real thing and simulations that seemed even realer than that. I never did end up getting my zero gravity combat or HEAT (hostile environment assault training) certification after BCT, as they both took several more months to get, would still require me to finish AIT, and I honestly got plenty of both when I was aboard the Normandy. Luckily for me, that seemed to be the smart option in the end as ICT awarded me recognition for them all anyways after I completed its courses. Combat diving was about the only thing I wasn't already experienced in besides those two. Well, that and HALO training. Freefalling with a jetpack was pretty cool. Definitely rounded out my repertoire when it comes to combat entry. I received my qualifications for N3 at its end too.

When I got back to Arcturus, I found that they were giving N'ers the option to take a special five day crash course in firearm training. A new method of warfare they soon hoped to integrate into the Alliance Navy. I volunteered believing I already knew what it was. And did for that matter. Once I passed, I was also given the opportunity to teach everything I learned to some poor schmoes for an upcoming field exercise on Kruljaven. I volunteered for it upon realization that my old group from Prudence would be there (and that it fit inside my time frame too). Was still in touch with some of the guys. Hadn't seen any of them in awhile. Thought it'd be nice.

* * *

 **June 1st - July 22nd, 2184 CE**

 **Gargarin Station, Outer Bounds of Sol System**

Jump Zero. That was my next stop. Formerly the furthest human-made structure before Mass Relays were discovered. Didn't know the station was still in use after all the events Kaidan talked about in ME1. But since BaAT and the Alliance's pre-FTL research ended, it had to be used for something, so it was now partly a facility where ICT deigned to give its trainees close combat instruction. And it was much more intensive than anything Sir had taught us in boot camp. Low intensity conflict, advanced combatives, melee weaponry, pretty much anything imaginable was put on the table. Alien forms of combat were taught too. Turian CQC. Asari martial arts. Batarian brawling tendencies. The krogan charge. More of how to avoid it for that last one. It was almost as much an alien physiology class as it was combat instruction as we were given lessons on how to maim every living thing imaginable. As a N7 Shadow, I also happened to get special sword instruction. That didn't go well. I thought I was at the point where it was safe enough to be a wise-ass and asked when the hell was I going to be able to use a sword in a firefight. The instructor said something about asari commandos using them for centuries, CQC is no joke, you don't know anything you dumb hick, etc. I responded how the hell can you even swing that thing in a cramped space, its like four feet long. I was sticking up for my old omni-blade, which they only took an hour out of a single day to address. Criminally underused weapon. In response, the instructor took that monomolecular bad boy and cut straight through my fatigues with a nonchalant swing, lopping off my nipple in the process. Yeah. You read that right. Clean stroke. Almost no bleeding for those few first seconds. With the nature of the training, people got hurt a lot, and so, they seemed to be pretty lax with the outcomes as long as there wasn't any death. Got a lot of bruises during that period. And one dislocated shoulder, but to be fair, that was fixed about as soon as it happened. I got N4 designation at its end.

* * *

 **July 25th, 2184 CE**

 **Alliance Wargame Staging Center, Kruljaven**

I put my hand over my eyes as I got off the shuttle, its thrusters kicking up debris into every crevice it could find. First thing I noticed was that the landscape was barren. There were small, rolling hills and a berth of craters scattered all over, everything colored a poopoo brown, with heavy patches of fog covering quite a few areas. Hardly one of the galaxy's Top 10 Vacation Destinations-

"Handy!" He came trudging through the mud on my left, powering through it like an ox, horrible terrain doing nothing to slow his march over. "When I saw your name on our squad roster, I couldn't believe it! Where have you been!? Some of the guys thought you were discharged when you never came back from AIT!"

I smiled in response, gripping his hand, shuttle engines admittedly making it a tad hard to hear. The huge, barrel-chested marine in front of me was barely recognizable compared to the once portly SOB I knew from boot camp.

"Great to see you too FB! You look good!"

"Thanks," he replied with a hearty grin. "You know, the rest of the guys in the 355 are eager to catch up." He glanced past me at the empty landing pad, noticing everyone else had already left. "...hey. Do you know who else was on that shuttle? There was supposed to be a special instructor. A N'er apparently!"

"Oh yeah. Did everyone in the 355 already receive their new gear?"

"All those rifles and canisters? Yes, they're already unboxed and distributed. Why do you ask?" Then he saw the insignia on my hardsuit. "Woah! When did you become a corporal-"

"About the same time I was told to show all you how our new guns work," I replied with a grin to his dumbfounded expression. "Think the platoon's ready to get started?"

* * *

 **July 27th, 2184 CE**

 **Mock Battle Site 4, Kruljaven**

"Oh shi- I'm, uhm...I'm trying to raise command...sarge!" I eloquently replied instead, just noticing the bars on his shoulder plate. And with my pontificating now over, I quickly glanced back down at the machine, still finding the radio unable to connect to a relay.

The trench we were in was foggy though, vision practically null, making it hard for me to even see what was going on with it. I wasn't completely convinced there weren't any particles or magnets or metals or some shit causing interference with the radio either. Or if I was just simply being incompetent-

"Well don't waste your time! We just found out they cut our comms! If you're with able squad, then get back to the line! Those damn birds are going to attack any second-"

And since the universe does love its specific brand of irony so, the loud cacophony of gunfire suddenly broke out beside the trench we were in, and-

Oh wait. Sorry.

Sometimes, everything happens so fast around me that it's hard for me to even keep track of where I am, let alone what's happening around me and what's-

Alright. Okay. I apologize.

Let me backtrack from the very beginning.

...Ahem.

And since the universe does love its specific brand of irony so, the loud cacophony of gunfire suddenly broke out INSIDE the trench we were in, and several shouts of terror immediately erupted throughout it.

"Ah fuck!" the man across from me suddenly swore too as he was tagged by several rounds.

And then, the turian responsible immediately did the same as Sweetness and I whipped around, returning the favor. The subsequent headshot dropped the soldier to the ground, brown goop scattering everywhere as she faceplanted into the sludge of the ditch. And with that over with...now I could at least tell the Lieutenant where all the turians had gone.

"THEY'RE FLANKING US! MOVE IT!"

Oh. Guess he already noticed then.

Welp.

This was bad.

I took out at a brisk sprint, vaulting over the turian playing dead, and laid suppressing fire on their unit just rounding the corner. I quickly popped a thermal clip once they all scattered, and when they heard the hiss, they came up out of hiding. Thought I had overheated my weapon, the poor bastards. Unfortunately, that was not the case, and I knocked them all back down with my fresh clip like I had their squad-mate. With a quick step, I resumed my course in the trenches catching wind that the coast was clear.

The enemy force was a grueling meat machine that had been throwing bodies at us like this for hours.

Since that last offensive, I had gone off on my own, realizing how quickly I had been cut off. It had not been a single squad like I had guessed. The advance of the turian forces opposite us had been a pretty bold one in fact. They seemed to have attacked with the intent to end the battle, flanking us en masse. I had heard them all around me, barking orders, laying massive coordinated fire wherever the mist cleared. I had to leave the trenches pretty early on with the number of close encounters I already had. Though my mood had been in a pretty good place with the high morale of our company and all the joking going around, crawling silently through the mud for what seemed like an eternity now, the odd shot going off here and there, with the overall eerie atmosphere of the fog now had me feeling something awful.

Then the screeching came. The sound overhead had me immediately scamper for a nearby divot in the ground, hands over head as the 'fake' artillery quickly rained down over the area. I did NOT want to be taken out like that. Crawl through sludge for hours on end only be taken out by blind shelling and being forced to lay still for several hours more? Fuck that. Crouched in the hole, anticipating my suit's sensors to shut down my free autonomy any second, the sounds of explosions continued for what seemed an abnormally long time. But eventually, like all the rest that had come before, it stopped. I then whipped out Sweetness, the newly christened name for my trusty Harpy, as apparently every gun had to have a name according to Whitey. Can't believe that was the first thing that guy asked me. No hello. No how's it going, how've you been? I mean damn. How the hell is a gun more interesting than a fellow human being? Especially when it's me, Marauder Shield, no less?

Anyway, the turians usually followed up their artillery fire with an brutal offensive which is why I drew my weapon. At this point in the game though, I suppose they thought their MO was almost too predictable. I failed to hear any footsteps. Or maybe that was us? I had no freaking clue. Communications were still being jammed by the Hierarchy. Hadn't heard anything for what must have been hours. Holstering my gun with a sigh, I took my fresh off the line N7-series rifle back out, pulled myself out of the hole, and continued dredging through the mire on my belly.

Speaking of which. The newly released N7-series. The latest generation in armed warfare. Distributed to the troops solely for this exercise. State-of-the-art micro-scaled mass accelerators designed by the Bradford Engineering Group and Hahne-Kedar. At first glance, you wouldn't find anything particularly abnormal about their design. Though it would soon become apparent after this exercise that one feature of theirs in particular would soon revolutionize the entire galaxy.

So it was long thought by the galactic community that infantry weapons had plateaued in performance. But after reviewing logs from the Battle of the Citadel, all those theories were immediately proven wrong. Mathematically reviewing their combat files, the geth found that in an age of kinetic barriers, most firefights were won by the side who could put the most rounds down-range the fastest. But ordinary combatants were forced to deliberately shoot slower to manage waste heat or pause as their weapons vented.

To eliminate this inefficiency, the geth adopted detachable heat sinks that would eventually come to be known as thermal clips. While Alliance brass was doubtful this would produce a net gain when the matter was brought to their attention, several weapon-testers learned they could eject and swap thermal clips in under a second. Their sheer oppressiveness in live fire exercises were impossible to ignore.

My Sweetness was a predecessor of this knowledge and was created by Cerberus which had already dabbled in the technology. I could only use it after looting the Geth corpses we came across in the Traverse during the Fall of 2183. Despite their head-start however, thermal clips did not seem to appeal to them, or the military industry until just this year. They were introduced to our N-class in a special session for the first time just a couple weeks ago like I mentioned, and several representatives from that class were asked to help the grunts get used to them in this very exercise. Kruljaven was to be the Alliance's testing ground for the efficacy of thermal clip technology.

Which is why when I spotted the turian entrenchment I did not expect to see, I was glad to have such a weapon in hand. I wouldn't have lasted had my gun jammed after a single volley. I immediately set myself up on a nearby mound of clay, lining up the scope of my N7 'Valiant' on the tallest target, and after a short inhale, quickly put three 'rounds' into them as fast as I could. It was all simulated of course. Advanced tracking software, targeting arrays, and sensors in your hardsuit communicating with dozens of satellites in orbit telling who hit what and so forth. And it was all scarily accurate from what I could tell. Imagine it would actually have been a pretty fun game if everyone didn't treat it so seriously. Long story short, the lack of an ammo block still didn't prevent me from taking down the turian officer across the bank.

As the fog began to re-envelop the camp, turian soldiers already scattering, trying to discern where the sniper fire had come from, I trashed the clip and moved on. I don't know why I had crawled out as far as I did. I should have regrouped now that I think about it. But I didn't. I didn't really think about where I was going either. Or what my objective honestly was. It was my N7 training finally starting to kick in, I guess. Infiltrate enemy lines, sow discord, pull out. Though I didn't quite achieve that last part.

But damn if I hadn't gone apeshit on the bastards before I was found. I had taken down nearly all five they had sent after me before those freaking jetpack turians came down on my ass. I was just resigned to being slaughtered at that point. And to be honest, seeing them basically HALO drop on top of me was worth those three hours of eating mud.

The entire joint-exercise ended not too long after, I think only half an hour in fact, with the turian HQ being ultimately overrun resulting in a decidedly Alliance victory. Of course, that was on the ground. In the sky simulations above, the Hierarchy's novel Thanix cannon technology supposedly tore apart the Third Fleet. The ending to the affair was officiated with the Alliance's Admiral Forsythe shaking the hand of the Hierarchy's General Partinax. And that day, TWO discoveries were made. The very arguably superior tactics and movements of the turian forces were thrown back by the sheer firepower of _inexperienced_ Alliance forces (why one of the groups selected was the fresh 355), using weapons they had just learned to handle that same day, proving the technology's utility and sheer superiority. And the successful reverse-engineering of Sovereign's weaponry allowed the galaxy to achieve yet another advancement in the path to fighting the Reapers when they finally came.

When I reunited with the ol' gang in the staging camp, we partied hardy. You've never heard so much shit talk in your life. Despite half of 'em getting nailed in the opening salvo, they had almost made it sound like humanity had just conquered Palaven itself. While we were picking up crates, cleaning up all the stuff we had brought in, I realized I had forgotten how much fun I had with the 355 during BCT, or I guess Bear Platoon specifically, since there _were_ a couple of new faces I didn't recognize in the unit. Kind of disappointed that I would never be on assignment with them due to ICT. But glad they were one of the groups chosen for the exercise. Though I suppose I wouldn't have volunteered for the FTX in the first place if they weren't. And of course, if I hadn't done that, well, then I suppose I wouldn't have been responsible for all the events to come either.

* * *

 **August 1st - September 25th, 2184 CE**

 **Arcturus Station, Arcturus Stream**

I dove right back into my track to N7 after the exercise had ended and we were shipped back. This time around, the training was based less on actual warfare and more on logistics. Most of it centered on working in multi-national task forces, and conducting operations in foreign territories. And ironically, what I had originally wanted to learn in the first place from AIT. Alien linguistics, frontline trauma care for human _and_ alien biology, conventional C-Sec tactics and protocol. Cool stuff. Had a couple loan officers from the Hierarchy and Asari Republics to instruct us about alien discipline and behavior. Suppose the gist was teaching soldiers to be able to work with a turian if say, batarians waged war on the Council. Or much more likely, when intergalactic invaders from dark space came to harvest us all our DNA.

This period was especially special for me however. Because it was the first anniversary, you know?

A full year since the Battle of the Citadel. Since Shepard's sacrifice.

I was glad to have been on Arcturus Station for it. As the nerve center of the Alliance, they dared not miss any decorum for the event. There was a station-wide service held in her honor and for those who lost their lives in the Fifth Fleet. From my vantage point beneath a barstool, it had all looked pretty good.

I became an N5 before the very end of that month.

* * *

 **Alliance News Network Daily Broadcast**

"Hello and welcome to the Alliance News Network's Galactic Report, broadcasting to our viewers throughout Arcturus and Alliance Space! I'm Ruxius Rilius of the Arcturus Stream, and tonight, breaking news coming from the planet Trident. A human-dominated world with over 95% of its surface covered by salt water, Trident is home to a dazzling array of life. The oceans are filled with creatures ranging from tiny bivalves to mammoth vertebrates unequaled even by Earth's whales and ichthyosaurs. Small archipelagos create what little land there is, and its valuable real estate is fought over constantly. Due to this and it's proximity to the Terminus Systems, Trident is largely a lawless world, home to a rogues' gallery of unethical corporations exploiting the resources of the planet. And of course, actual rogues - criminals, slavers and mercenaries - working the shadows. And evidently...even Cerberus?

Federal investigators on the planet Trident have recently uncovered a Cerberus cell! Authorities seized the human-survivalist group's laboratory, finding two dozen prisoners who claim that Cerberus subjected them to biotic-suppressing drugs with potentially brain damaging side effects. The captives were briefly questioned before being released back to their families. It's reported that only one Cerberus operative was captured during the rescue operation. Six others were killed and two reportedly committed suicide rather than face arrest. With us today is terror analyst, Kilo Murkentine, to shed further light on the group and what it was trying to accomplish by abducting and torturing these victims-"

"Cerberus has done nothing wrong!"

"...um...I'm sorry-"

"Cerberus says humanity comes first! So if you don't like Cerberus, you don't like humanity!"

"Sir, are you condoning terrorism? In 2165, Cerberus made an attempt to steal antimatter from the Alliance military. In 2177, the group bombed several offices belonging to alien outreach programs in the Traverse. It is also heavily speculated that they even sabotaged the starship MSV Anixara in 2182, resulting in the death of several dozen turians-"

"BATARIAN outreach programs and that ship was carrying turian WARCRIMINALS. How can you spew that propaganda with a straight face, spouting such blatant lies!"

"And what of their recent slave ring on Trident? How were those-"

"They were probably traitors like you! You make me want to hand you over to a four-eyed slaver myself you alien-loving hippie!"

"Are...are you threatening me sir?"

"I am gladly against those who are a _threat_ to _humanity_. I will not, WE will not, sit around and wait for xenophilic defeatists like you to serve us all on a silver platter to your alien overlords. This age requires a strong hand to guide us. We are a sitting member on the Council for Shepard's sake, cowtowing to-"

"Shut off his feed. Why is-"

"You can't silence the truth. Cerberus stands up for the common man! The Hu-MAN! Cerberus will watch the dark places and bring illumination. Not just so that we can survive, but for the betterment of mankind overall! We can and we will take our rightful place among the stars-"

"Ahem. My apologies to those watching at home. Our analysts will discover how that man faked his credentials and appeared on our panel. In the meantime, enjoy this commercial break.

...are we off? Good. Because I...I quit. I've had enough. That was the 16th lunatic you all let on the air this month. Yes he was a lunatic! How was he not- this station has become a circus show. We are a laughing stock! Where is our journalistic integrity? I don't know how you all sleep at night- No! No I will not calm down! You all can kiss my derriere. This news station used to be something truly respectable. It used to have _prestige_. I am a NEWS REPORTER. I refuse to continue to be a part of this second rate tabloid! Hey- Get off me Lewis! Good day! Good day sir! I said GOOD DAY!"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

My Neverending Story. Thanks for dropping by.

 **Reviews:**

SpecterXCove: thanky

RIOSHO: I'm glad you all enjoyed it too.

rfpizzle: I like the ridiculousness of the idea which is why I teased it, but I felt Shield being recruited for a joint task force on accident might have been a little too ridiculous. The Captain definitely had a reason which might become a little more clear in the upcoming chapters. Also that confusion while you were reading his POV was definitely what I was going for. Miscellaneous nouns and ranks notwithstanding. You pretty much had it though. Riley was the female (though she was the commander), and Uche was the guy who was a lieutenant. And I'm thinking I'll have to save Shepard delirium for something special :)

Pteaset: Appreciate it dawg

Tom712: i guess that's ok

SomeDudeThatReads: I forgive you.

Rainsfere: He was a little fatigued. Or maybe our boy is finally growing up a bit. A little of column A, a little of column B? Guess we'll have to see? And no worries man. Fehl Prime is from like, Vega's three lines of backstory and that one Mass Effect Anime. It's also apparently where he and Cortez first met although that was never depicted in any medium. Hope you and everyone else were able to get the gist of it from their back and forth. The anime's really not worth the 84 minutes of your life. Though I guess you could check it out for yourself since half of the movie was put on youtube by funimation lol

gary2000: I decided to update this 20 year old story just for you pal. You're welcome.

Guest: pRettY SuRe thE cReAtor Of tHis fANfiC jUSt stOppeD wRitiNg it cUz tHhey LazY as FuCk

...

 _SO?_

* * *

 **Next Time on Mass Effective: A Hero Lost!**

Meet the Team.


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